ALERT: SONG SPARROW!
"I've seen Northern Shrikes before." The words pierced my sense of elation of a shrike I observed hunting in our mutual vicinity just moments before. It wouldn't be the first time I felt a little deflated after sharing a bird to another birder. For birders, it has been a banner year for seeing Northern Shrikes throughout the state. Perhaps by now they are something of an old hat. Heck, you might be able to tick a Northern Shrike for every county in Wisconsin this winter.
What's the story behind why there are so many shrikes around this winter? Is it due to the weather or excessive snowfall? Was there prey population fluctuation to the north? Was it a bumper year for breeding success last summer? I haven't read or heard anything about this yet, but this year does stand apart from others for shrike numbers. Regardless of that, though, I think they're wonderfully fascinating birds to observe and photograph.
Then I had another thought, one I've pondered before. Excluding vagrancy, it can be observed (at least with some birders) that a sense of appreciation of certain bird species is inversely proportional to its success; the fewer there are, the more excitement is expressed. Emotion, adjectives and superlatives describing the bird's unlikely presence and astonishing beauty follow true to this notion as well.
While I can get pretty excited about rare and uncommon birds, I remain awed and curious by everyday ones, too. Why should I spend so much time observing and photographing Common Yellowthroats, Yellow-rumped Warblers, American Tree Sparrows or Song Sparrows? Am I wasting valuable birding time? Come spring, at some point I'll witness my first Common Yellowthroat of the year. Should that experience, lasting mere seconds, represent as much time as I spend with the species all spring, summer and fall?
These species are so numerous because they're adaptively successful. Perhaps they are habitat or foraging generalists or maybe they're super successful at recognizing and removing eggs of brood parasites from their nests. Regardless of such naturally earned advantages and strategies, they will eventually become extinct. In biological circles, it's recognized as an evolutionary fact that 99% of all species that have ever existed on our planet are extinct.
Hopefully extinction is a long way off for the above common species, but it would be sort of comical to peer into a crystal ball and observe birdwatchers of the future flocking to see one of these species because it is rare in their time. Rewind to today and we come to the realization that this elevated level of excitement is expressed with birds comparatively closer to their evolutionary end. Regardless of the cause or causes, they're failing.
The obvious explanation for our excitement is because these particular birds are scarce - they're just not seen as often. Our natural tendency is to be more expressive in terms of marvel and awe at birds that are failing – the bird exists despite forces (natural and human-caused) working against it. I recall reading about a certain politician who expressed this sentiment regarding a particular conservation issue – why bother to do so? After all, if common birds become rarer, that means birders will have even more species to marvel over. I'm curious. What was it that this politician experienced that prompted him to hold this opinion of birders?
All images © 2008 Mike McDowell
posted by Mike McDowell @ 5:49 AM
7 comments
7 Comments:
Hi Mike; Although I have no real data to back it up, my suspicion is that the shrikes have been influenced by the same factors that encouraged the bumper saw-whet owl and winter finch irruption this year, that is, failed tree seed crops through a lot of the north, which in turn caused a collapse of rodent populations. From a quick Google search, one study in the Condor suggests small mammals (primarily voles and deermice) constitute about 83% of the total prey biomass for these shrikes, so a widespread decline in these rodents would likely influence a larger movement south. Ron Pittaway's winter finch forecast indicated that deermice were already rapidly declining this fall and voles usually cycle with them. So my guess is that the large numbers of shrikes this year are largely food-related, although a good breeding season this summer (like with the saw-whets) on rodent populations high from last year's good seed and berry crops is also likely (this could be supported if most of the individuals you're seeing are young/first-winter birds).
It's true that it's exciting to see something you haven't seen before or don't see often. For me that's especially true when I'm out specifically to go birding. But my favorite species are usually those that I see a lot of at my house, like northern mockingbirds or lesser goldfinches. Then I feel like I really get to know them.
If rodent populations have crashed, why haven't the winter owls, such as Great Grays and N. Hawk Owls, moved south in any numbers? Different foraging strategies and success? It baffles me, to be honest.
Seabrooke makes a good point about aging birds during this shrike "irruption." Here in northern Wisconsin we have few first-winter birds during a typical winter and this winter we have even less than average. Rather than a banner breeding season, I believe the whole wintering population has shifted southward this winter, for whatever reason.
Hey Mike - I can understand your deflation at the birder's response to your Shrike encounter. I sometimes find this same phenomena when sharing an experience with others concerning anything "common" - whether it be another beautiful snowfall (OK, I understand you might not be relishing more SNOW right now!), a bright sunny walk in the woods, or observing a "simple" Tree Sparrow.
These reactions seems to separate folks into two categories - Those that live in the moment and enjoy every experience given to us, and those who "live" in the past or the future........and then I wonder, are they really "living" at all? Look at all the beauty they miss in their lives looking for something more "spectacular"!
Once we are "bored" or uninterested in all that surrounds us, we can become indifferent to appreciating joy in everyday life. I find most birders and outdoor enthusiasts, as a whole, understand this concept and tend to relish each encounter they have while out there. But there are always exceptions!
Here's looking to those moments with your first Common Yellowthroat of the Spring....and just as importantly, every one of them after that!
In my opinion Shrike sightings are near normal...SE Owls may know better than to winter in 1 area several years in a row, instinctively knowing that pickings won't be as good this year since they took so many last year-plus I believe hard-snow pack (which we had before and after the Jan thaw)discourages them...they like powder.
Personally I tend to be excited by any new birds I see, even if they're common. I'm fortunate in that I moved to this area about a year ago, so virtually everything is new! That's not to say that the "old" birds aren't a delight, too. We get upwards of 10 cardinals a day (20 last summer,) but they're always a joy to behold, like the doves, sparrows & other "commoners."
Mike, I feel your pain. Just kidding. But I do understand, and I have experienced the same letdown among people who have become blase about birds that they have already seen. What is the purpose of birding afterall? To see birds and enjoy their beauty, their antics, and their musical prowess? Or to add a notch to a bino strap?
I take great joy in watching birds, and I have in fact spent hours watching my "common" backyard birds. In NJ, they were cardinals, chickadees, warblers, woodpeckers, finches, sparrows, brown creepers, thrashers, robins, etc. Here in Florida they are ibises, egrets, herons, monk parakeets, warblers, and, happily,...sparrows. :)
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