 A Nesty Business This morning is the last day of April. The field I sit in is covered by newly fallen snow, and a Killdeer pair mates on the edge of a small pond. The birds’ activity puts me in mind of a new pressure which I’m trying hard to put into perspective. Several columns ago I mentioned that the BC Breeding Bird Atlas began a five year plan of gathering bird nesting information for all of British Columbia. If anyone wants to participate, and it would be nice if everyone did, it’s as simple as signing up on-line and then sending in any bird nest activity you happen upon. Along with nesting activities, the Bird Atlas people also look for instances of birds mating, or feeding young; in short, all the information which indicates that nesting is going to occur, or has already occurred. So why am I feeling pressured? Looking for, and finding bird nests has always been a natural part of my birding activity. Only last year I found many nests on my usual rambles through the woods. I found a higher than normal, variety of Sparrow nests; I also discovered my first ever Redstart nest and it appeared to be run by Redstarts that were both female. However, some deep research revealed that the relationship between the same-sex birds wasn’t quite as unique as it appeared on the surface. One of the female Redstarts was actually a first year Redstart male. The young males bear a strong resemblance to females, this will reduce the younger male birds’ chances of attracting a mate, but nevertheless as this nesting occurrence proved, it does happen. In the past I’ve had a great track record of bird nest finding – in fact, it was a childhood passion. My oldest brother and I grew up in a small town and we considered it a personal failure if we did not find every nest within walking distance. While traveling to or from school, we passed by and inspected every bird nest in town. We also discovered every new nest, even those still under construction. This was in Northwestern Ontario and most of the nests we found were Spotted Sandpiper, Killdeer, Brewer’s Blackbirds, Red-eyed Vireo, Robin, Cedar Waxwing, Goldfinch, Crow, Raven, and Song Sparrow. In those days I would have been a great Breeding Bird Atlas informant. The anxiety I feel nowadays is most likely a personal idiosyncrasy. I have never before officially documented bird information. I have not participated in a nest record scheme, and have never sent sighting records to official bodies. Anything bird-related, recorded in my name, was the work of someone else. I am listed as a contributor in the four-volume Birds of British Columbia because another local birder sent my sighting of a Burrowing Owl on the Mission Road, in the fall of 1984, to the proper people, and it was recorded. I’d like to use the excuse that I’m not organized enough to document all the incidences of nesting activity, but I’ve documented nesting for many years in my own personal records. This failure to make official recordings seems odd because I’ve collected heaps of information about birds and nest discoveries in boxes at my place. I have calendars going back to the ‘80’s with bird sighting and checklists for many days of various years with notes on what I saw. I am presently in the midst of doing a three-day bird count on a check list. I call these bird counts “core samples,” a kind of test drilling of all the birds passing through the area. I also have about 10 journals stuffed full of bird-related information and scraps of paper, with dates, containing similar bird information. So why do I collect bird-related bits of information? Somehow, someday, do I expect the information to mysteriously make its way into the annals of BC bird history? I’m not quite sure how this is supposed to happen. I tell myself that it’s more important to collect the information now than worry about the task of seeing the tidbits make it to the main repository of birding in a timely fashion. Spring has barely begun and already I’m wondering what to do. I’ve discovered two Canada Goose nests. One nest sits about sixty feet up a poplar tree and the Goose-in-residence has taken over an old hawk nest. Yet another Goose sits by a pond east of the house. I also watched a Pied-billed Grebe standing on a mat of sodden material in the same pond, and then drag grass onto what is presumably its future nest. This is not the only breeding bird information I’ve harboured in my memory and my scrambled notes. I know of at least two mating incidence’s; the Killdeers’ this morning, and the Sandhill Cranes last week. And I know of at least two more birds carrying nesting material. Not one of these nesting-related activities has made it to the annals of the BC Breeding Bird Atlas. Why not? I haven’t signed up to participate. Can a Sandpiper change its spots? Can a chronic, cloistered note-taker come out into the light of day? There is no other way to share my information with the BC Breeding Bird Atlas; I must take a bold step. It’s time for my bird information to give up its life of privacy and leave the nest. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
