This commentary is by Walter Medwid of Derby, a co-founder of the Vermont Wildlife Coalition.
My neighbor, noting my habit of slinging binoculars around my neck to catch better glimpses of wildlife and especially birds on my daily treks, stated, ”I always thought that birding was for the birds.” That opened the door to my explaining just what were the attractions, some of which I’ll share.
First and foremost, birding is a celebration of the diversity of life on the planet — all the different shapes, sizes, colors, behaviors, feeding habits and habitat preferences. Some 390 species can be found in the state and over 2,000 species have been spotted in North America. Around 267 species can be found in the Northeast Kingdom, my neck of the woods.
Birding is a front-row seat at witnessing the science of evolution at work. That’s no better exemplified than in a type of bird called crossbills. As the name suggests, the two parts of the bill bypass each other instead of forming a perfect match and fit. Why could that possibly be of any advantage?
Only after noting what food crossbills eat does the seeming deformity make sense. Crossbills — we have two species in our area — feed on the seeds of conifers that are contained in cones. The biting action of the crossed bills causes the individual scale of the cone to twist as pressure is applied and, in so doing, the actual seed is exposed.
And when we dig deeper into crossbills, we learn that they are an irregular visitor, largely dependent upon cone crops that vary in quantity from year to year. If cone crops are good, crossbill populations are content in their boreal habitat of coniferous forests. If crops are less abundant, crossbills will move into lower or more southerly habitats in search of food. These movements are called irruptions.
So, with any curiosity, this one species brings us lessons in evolution, geography and botany.
Birders are always on the lookout for birds of prey — masters of flight and, in the case of falcons, masters of speed. Peregrine falcons have been clocked at 240 mph. The far more common red-tailed hawk is pokey at only 120 mph.
People who feed birds may on occasion have a hawk swoop into their yard in quest of a chickadee or other winged morsel. And in this case we get a lesson in ecology 101 — predator-prey relationships. Despite the misgivings we may feel for the victim, birders get to understand the challenges of survival and the complexity of all the interrelationships of species and their environment.
Most important are the takeaways on the range of ecological benefits predators offer the landscape. This insight into predators can even shine a light on how ill-informed and antiquated Vermont’s public policy on mammalian predators is where species such as bobcat, fox and river otter have hunting and trapping seasons in the absence of any ecological rationale for such seasons. One more lesson available on the dark world of Vermont’s wildlife politics can be derived from birding.
If you are into competition, birding has that to offer as well. On the online program called eBird, where you can list and track sightings, there is a sort available for the top 100 birders by county or across the whole state. In this period of Covid, as more people sought refuge outdoors, the competition has only gotten keener. Perhaps a lesson in math?
Heading outdoors anytime but especially during this pandemic, whether you’re birding or not, is good for you. Studies show that spending time in nature helps reduce anxiety, improves mental health and well-being, and bolsters physical health. To top that off, it’s free! Lessons in self-care for the taking.
The old adage about taking time to smell the roses has a lot going for it. Slowing down to listen and see the myriad forms of life that surround us is a gift. Here in the Kingdom, the opportunities and the number of lifeforms are immense.
Birding isn’t just for the birds and the spring wave of returnees is on our doorstep. What better time to give it a gander?
