A couple years ago when I got my list of spring field trips hosted by my local Audubon Society, I started thinking about which ones would give me the best chances of a good species total for the season. The spring prior was my first in the north after four years of living in Texas, and I didn’t see as much as I had hoped. I was looking forward to hitting it pretty hard that year.
As I got to thinking more about it, I realized that unless I visited the significant landscape features that influenced migration patterns and concentrated migrating birds (the Mississippi River, Lake Michigan), on any given day my chances of seeing migrants was as much, if not more, a function of weather as it was location. If I picked a day to visit a given site, it would be based more on my days off work than anything else. But if the weather wasn’t in my favor I could be driving a long way for little reward. On the other hand, if my theory is correct, a good weather day was as likely to produce good birds on the west side of Madison as it was on the east side or in Columbia County. Come breeding season, the right habitat is critical to find the birds we seek, but during migration, “when” may be more important than “where.” Why then should I spend the money on the gas to drive 30 miles to see birds when I had the potential to see a similar number of similar species close to home? It struck me as somewhat counterproductive, or in conflict with the idea of pursing nature, to be burning gas and spewing emissions doing so. I decided if I couldn’t get there on foot or on my bicycle, I wasn’t going to go.
I’m fortunate to have some good sites within easy reach of my house. I can get on my bicycle and be watching orioles, grosbeaks, warblers, vireos and more within ten minutes, tops. There are other sites I can hit with a little more effort, but still within an easy trip. I realize that everyone doesn’t have such easy access to good sites within walking or biking distance of home. And not everyone is capable of riding even a few miles. We can’t all completely divorce ourselves from our cars and I’m not suggesting we should. It was a test and to my measure it worked. One weekend in mid-May I saw 16 species of warblers, including such gems as blackburnian, Canada, and golden-winged, and I didn’t bird past 11:00 am that Saturday or Sunday. Not a remarkable number by some standards, but very satisfying knowing that I did so without lining the pockets of the oil companies and pumping out greenhouse gases.
Another advantage of sticking close to home is that it provides an opportunity to establish a more intimate relationship with one or a few sites. Regular visits to the same sites give us a greater opportunity to track the progress of the migration – who’s early, who’s late, who’s coming through in bigger or smaller numbers. Consistency and frequency brings these things to light. Besides, the more time we spend in any one site the better we get to know the rhythms and patterns and microhabitats of that site. We can then carry the experience gained into the breeding season. That’s when the connections really take hold. We’re likely to develop an emotional attachment to the site and we may even get a little more protective.
I do think that as a member of the Audubon Society I have the responsibility of setting a higher standard. I believe the Audubon Society isn’t just a bunch of folks who like to watch birds. We’re a conservation organization. And that carries the responsibility of making deliberate choices. As spring migration begins to kick in this year, I commit to local birding again.
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