Let’s say you started birding in the pandemic, bought binoculars, and now you’re hooked. You can identify the songbirds and woodpeckers in your neighborhood. So what happens next?
A Chestnut-sided Warbler we found in Massachusetts this summer. Photos by Anders Gyllenhaal
I’ve been thinking a lot about that question while hiking through an Audubon sanctuary in western Massachusetts, peering through bushes looking for fist-sized birds that have no interest in being seen.
Time is of the essence. The American Redstarts, Chestnut-sided Warblers, the Black-and-Whites, the Yellow Warblers and all the other varieties that spend the summer here will start migrating south any day.
Not that long ago, I didn’t know a warbler from a sparrow. So exactly what does it take to become a good birder? Once you’ve moved past the cardinals, blue jays and robins, what’s keeping you from finding the Indigo Bunting or a Rose-breasted Grosbeak?
A female Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Becoming a birder is a process, and it could go any number of ways. Some of it depends on your personality, how much time you have and how mobile you are. Do you like to collect things? Do you crave the thrill of the hunt? What’s your frustration tolerance?
Let’s say you’ve spotted a bird you can’t identify. Would you rather use a book to compare diagnostic markings such as eye rings and the color of a bird’s bill and feet? Or would you prefer a phone app designed to help you identify the bird easily and instantly. Perhaps you’d want a fellow human who can guide your way.
Of the 37 species in the Eastern U.S., the male Prothonotary is the only one that glows. His head is a saturated yellow-orange, earning him the nickname “Golden Swamp Warbler.”
Robert Rice, a veteran bird scientist who spent his career with the Smithsonian’s Migratory Bird Center, explained what happens: “They can eat so much fruit, it ferments in their gut and they go wobbly for a while,” Rice said.
It’s a magnificent sight, one I assumed I’d miss this year with our limited mobility. But the other day, wandering through the trees not 50 feet from our home, I noticed what looked like a new arrival. It was the first of a flock of Cedar Waxwings that gradually became an avalanche, all collecting insects as if their lives depended on it.
As birders all know, the more people get interested in birds, the more likely they are to want our state and federal government agencies to protect them.
Most of the answers are guesses, since the bird wasn’t tagged and certainly isn’t talking. But Andrew Farnsworth, a research associate with the Cornell Lab of Ornithology who specializes in migration, said the likely drivers are genetic migration instincts that go off track, lack of food back home and changing weather patterns that are becoming more frequent around the globe.
