In my marathoning days, there was a similar schism within the running community. Is it more noble to run tons of marathons (e.g., finish one in each of the fifty states, or maybe all the continents, or maybe one every weekend for a year, things that seem completely crazy to non-marathoners, but border on the everyday to the folks in clubs like the Marathon Maniacs and the 50 States Marathon Club), or is it more noble to run a few marathons and do your absolute best (i.e., fastest)?
With birders, is it about seeing the most birds? Or really understanding and being able to identify the birds you see?
In either case, are the two mutually exclusive?
It's a question I ask myself frequently as I find myself becoming a birder. (For the record, as a marathoner, I found myself somewhere in the middle. Yes, I ran a marathon in each of the 50 states. But I also qualified for and ran the Boston Marathon ten years in a row - 11 if you count the hot year at the end, when I wasn't trained and had lost my spirit and had my first ever DNF. But that's an entirely different story - and blog.) Do I want to just build up a big life list? The hard core birders scoff at the people they call "listers", and I don't ever want to be dismissed so handily.
But really, is it all or nothing? Yin or yang? Consider one of my best birding friends. In birding, he stays fairly close to home, and knows a ton more than I do about our local birds. And yet, that knowledge translates into an overall superior knowledge of birds. When I travel and have ID issues, he's able to help me figure out what I'm seeing, even if it's a bird he might not have seen himself....and, I believe, he appreciates the birds I share with him. In fact, even though he likes to say "you know I don't chase birds", his messages to me often start with things like, "had a nice day at chatfield, saw the pomarine jaeger, and a sabine's gull, and a red-necked grebe".
It seems that there's a little bit of the purist and the seeker there.
As a fledgling birder, I do have a life list that is far greater and more varied than someone with my limited experience should normally lay claim to. That's largely due to the great good fortune that I've had in the last year, to have a work project in South Africa, and have taken advantage of 4 trips to the southern part of Africa to see wildlife: specifically, birds. As well as the vacations to places like Alaska and Florida and Texas and the Galapagos. But it also has to do with the fact that I've embraced this thing, and chased birds - local regulars as well as the irregular migrants or other rarities.
Which brings me to my last couple of weeks, and non-AMB program birding. The classes and field trips are getting more widely spaced as we get into the end of the year, and allowances have been made for the sparsity of birds in the state post-migration. In fact, for the last couple of months of the year, the pace drops off noticeably. Not to worry: we'll make up for it next June and July when the schedule is super-intense: during that time frame, the only weekend we won't have a field trip is over the Fourth of July. I have no worries that I'll get my money's worth.
But even though there are theoretically fewer birds around now, there's been a healthy number of rarities - or simply birds I "need" (read: I have not yet seen and thus haven't counted on my life list) - being reported around the state. And somehow, along the way, I've picked up a valued community of like-minded fellow-birders, who see a report of a rare bird and say "when can you go see it?"
This may not be good for my career. Specifically, the one that pays me to be inside, at a desk, during working hours.
Nevertheless, over the last few weeks, I've spent some time chasing rarities. A couple of weeks ago, I told you about that fabulous Pomarine Jaeger; I've had the good fortune to see the Chatfield jaeger several times now, as well as to have seen another at Barr Lake State Park last Saturday. On the way to Barr Lake, my friends (enablers, some might say) and I stopped off at a place where a Red Phalarope had recently been reported. At first, we didn't spot the bird, but then a harrier flew overhead, and all the smaller birds flushed and changed position, and voila! There was our phalarope, right in front of us. We also chased - and spotted - a Cattle Egret at Barr Lake (which makes my Florida birding friend Melissa howl with laughter, since Cattle Egrets are ditch birds in her part of the world. Never mind. It's a rarity here.)
And just when I thought I'd seen all the "easy" local rarities, two scoters showed up in my backyard. Two different scoters: a Surf Scoter (a rare bird for Colorado that i'd seen at a couple of local spots already this fall) as well as a Black Scoter - a bird I've never seen anywhere. And quite literally in my backyard: they were reported the other day in Denver City Park. Yes, the same place that I've chosen to do my "Backyard" birding for my AMB requirement.
So how could I not get over there posthaste?
That meant that on Halloween Day, I blocked off an actual lunch hour on my work calendar. That in itself is a rarity. And the day cooperated: beautiful and sunny; a bit windy and a tad chilly, but really, just perfect for a fall day in Denver. Because of all the internet reports, I was expecting a crowd of birders. But there I was, completely solo.
And here's the thing: the gosh darn birds cooperated. I walked up to Ferril Lake - the big lake at Denver City Park - and there they were. No searching. No repeat trips. No pishing, or playing recordings, or looking in the underbrush. Just two duck-like birds hanging out in the water.
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| Surf Scoter exercising its wings, with Black Scoter in background |
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| Black Scoter exercising ITS wings, looking identical to the drawing in my Sibley's, with its head bobbing forward |
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| Aha! Ruddy Ducks trying to confuse me! |
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| Black Scoter |
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| Surf Scoter (left) and Black Scoter (right) |
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| Surf Scoter and Black Scoter |
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| Black Scoter (left), Scaup (lesser? greater? I'm not sure), and Surf Scoter (right) |
So, it seemed that on this one day, I was meant to be a "lister", someone out padding their life list with a cool new bird. Or was I actually learning these birds in more depth? I watched two unusual (for these parts) birds hang out together in the lake. They were clearly buddies on some level. Both dove at the same time (every single time!) Both preened side by side. If one rose up to exercise wings, then the other one did, too. They swam companionably along side by side. And when a helicopter passed overhead, each bird, in turn, looked up to see where the noise was coming from.
If I'm a "lister", guilty as charged. And I'm having a damn good time doing it. And learning a heckuva lot in the process.
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