New book examines life and The List
(published 9-8-09)

My mother, naturally a loyal follower of Words on Birds, recently chided me about the term “life list.” She said it seems to appear in all of my columns. I then reminded her that I’m a birder.

I’m also a reader, and this has been an exceptional year for books on birds and birding. Last winter I wrote about “Birdwatcher,” the new biography on Roger Tory Peterson. Today—get ready for this Mom—the topic is “Life List,” by Olivia Gentile. It’s a well-told story about the life of Phoebe Snetsinger, the first person to see 8,000 species of birds. Since her death in 1999, only two birders have surpassed her final total of 8,398. (There are roughly 10,200 known species in the world; it’s unlikely anyone will ever see them all.)

“Life List,” as you can imagine, is largely about obsession. The book’s subhead reads “A Woman’s Quest for the World’s Most Amazing Birds.” Birders eat these books up, and so do a few non-birders. There’s something compelling about stories of people who go over the edge in all-out pursuit of a passion, in this case birding. We want to know where they went and what they saw. Some, like me, want to know how they got away with it.

No birder I know can resist Kenn Kaufman’s “Kingbird Highway,” published in 1997. Subhead: The Story of a Natural Obsession That Got a Little Out of Hand. Then came “The Big Year,” by Mark Obmascik. Subhead: A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession. These books were about one-year bird chases around the U.S. Most recently, we gobbled up “To See Every Bird On Earth,” by Dan Koeppel. Subhead: A Father, a Son, and a Lifelong Obsession. There’s that o-word again—do I detect a pattern?

I strongly recommend the three books just mentioned. They entertain and inform, and each is well written. But “Life List” is something else—an exceptional biography in every way. I can see it appealing to people who don’t give a hoot about birding. In fact, it has all the elements to make a really good movie—perhaps the first major motion picture with a bird-theme since March of the Penguins in 2005. But that film was about birds. This one would be about birding, and a woman who took “competitive listing” to a new level.

Phoebe Snetsinger’s autobiography was published posthumously in 2003 by the American Birding Association. It was called “Birding on Borrowed Time,” a reference to the cancer diagnosis Snetsinger received at age 49. Doctors gave her one year to live.
The autobiography was essentially a travelogue—interesting in parts, a little dull in others. At least the cover was nice. It shows a male Blackburnian warbler, the “spark bird” that hooked Snetsinger on birding.

“Life List” goes a lot deeper and gets personal. Gentile contacted dozens of people who knew Phoebe well, including family members. Turns out she wasn’t as one-dimensional as some might think. She was obsessed with bird listing, certainly, and that poisoned her marriage and alienated her children. Snetsigner even skipped her mother’s funeral and a daughter’s wedding due to previously scheduled international birding trips. Ouch. But “Life List” also reveals a warm side. She was a willing teacher with a kind heart. She had many friends.

Phoebe spent her childhood in the Chicago area. She was the daughter of Leo Burnett, a giant in the advertising world. This adds yet another interesting layer to Gentile’s book.

And there are so many layers. The cancer “death sentence,” of course, and also the sexual assault that Snetsinger suffered on a birding trip to New Guinea. Even that didn’t slow her down. She continued putting her safety and health at risk while traveling the globe in search of new birds.
Melanoma never did claim Snetsinger’s life. Fittingly, she died with her binoculars on, the victim of a rollover van crash in Madagascar. She was 68.

I can’t say enough about “Life List.” It is simply a fascinating book, superbly written and researched. Every birder should read it.

Olivia Gentile will speak about her book and sign copies on Tuesday, Oct. 27, at the Evanston Ecology Center. The evening talk is sponsored by the Evanston North Shore Bird Club and open to the public. For details, visit ensbc.org.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Twitching away my summer vacation
(published 8-18-09)

I’m no different than most birders—the thrill of discovery is a big motivator, and so is the satisfaction of building my life list. I’ll gladly visit the local sewage treatment plant if that’s where the birds are. And sometimes that is where the birds are.

Nicer destinations are required when other family members are involved. They are not birders. So in July we splurged on two weeks in London, Ireland and Northern Ireland. It wasn’t Costa Rica, still my dream trip, but it wasn’t the backyard either, which can be kind of slow in mid-summer. New birds awaited me in the land where birders are known as twitchers and where common birds like robins, goldfinches and jays look nothing like the ones in DuPage County.

Our first five days were in London, my first time there as a birder. Early each morning I slipped out to survey the local birdlife in the big city parks. Hyde Park was a short walk from our hotel, as was a smaller one called Green Park, near Buckingham Palace. A third park, Regent’s, was an easy Tube (subway) ride away and offered the best birding.

When so much is new, the birding is bound to be great. A few of my favorite sightings were great-crested grebe, little grebe, long-tailed tit (along with blue tit, great tit and coal tit), blackcap and jay. Two species, green woodpecker and great-spotted woodpecker, caught me by surprise. They were not in the small field guide that I’d studied on the plane. No wonder—the book I had was for Ireland’s birds, used on a previous trip. Turns out these woodpeckers, while common in London, hardly ever cross the Irish Sea.

I needed a field guide for British birds, so I headed over to Foley’s. What an eye-opener that was. The store had a section labeled Ornithology. I counted 28 shelves of bird books, 18 of them devoted to field guides for other countries. I’ve never seen a display like this in the U.S. and it spoke volumes, literally, about the depth of England’s birding culture.

More clues were in Birdwatch, a London-based journal. It’s published monthly—unlike any birding magazines we have here—and from the content it’s clear that the Brits take their birding seriously. Really seriously. My favorite piece was a closing column called “punkbirder,” where the unidentified author—pictured only in silhouette, with spiky hair, peering through a spotting scope—extolled the many virtues of birding one’s “local patch.”

I’m not planning a change in hairstyle but I might shout “blimey!” next time I find a rare bird.

Ireland was a peaceful contrast to bustling London. That was nice—quiet birding in beautiful surroundings is hard to beat. My partially Irish eyes were especially eager for the spectacular rocky coastline and the birds that call it home.
But first, some good inland birding awaited in places like Enniskillen, Rathmullen and Glenveagh National Park. At the latter, in County Donegal, a peanut feeder outside a small nature center was swarming with chaffinches (supposedly the most common bird in Ireland) and siskins. I was most interested in the siskins, which are quite different than the pine siskins we have here. A staff naturalist told me that grey wagtails were on the grounds too, but my brief search for that species was unsuccessful. In Donegal Town, I spotted my first goldcrest (related to our kinglets) and willow warbler, an abundant summer resident.

In Northern Ireland, in the little whiskey town of Bushmills, I found my grey wagtails. Actually a pair. The next day we ventured to the Giant’s Causeway, the famous rock formation on the north coast. We were blessed with nice weather and that surely aided my bird quest. Oystercatchers and curlews were feeding on the rocky beach, and huge gannets soared over the open water. As we walked, a bird I’d never seen before landed on some nearby boulders. It was a whinchat, and soon some stonechats appeared as well. Life birds each of them, along with a rock pipit for good measure.

Further down the coastal road we stopped at another popular cliffside attraction. Soon I was eye-to-eye with northern fulmars, a gull-like species I’d observed at the Cliffs of Moher back in 1996. This time the birds seemed close enough to touch. I could clearly see their tube-shaped nostrils, an adaptation for excreting excess salt.

The red-billed chough, a rare member of the crow family, eluded me. (As the Punk Birder would say, I dipped on it.) I’ll need to go looking again someday, hopefully with enough Euros in my wallet to hire a local guide who knows exactly where to search. Maybe he can show me a corncrake and a lapwing, too.

For the entire trip, I spotted 65 species of birds. Of those, 25 were “lifers”—certainly more than I’d been expecting. Then again, I put in a lot of hours. Maybe I should have seen even more. Hey, wait a minute, I did! This wasn’t just about the birds, it was about all the things I saw in London and in a half-dozen Irish villages when most of the locals were still asleep.

I’d have missed a lot if I wasn’t a birder. For all of us, isn’t that the bloody truth?

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Bluebirds thrive with a little help from their friends
(published 7-15-09)

Learning more about Eastern bluebirds has been on my to-do list for years. I’ve been keeping a file on the species, reading bits and pieces, but that’s not the same as getting out there on the trail. So I finally popped the question: Will you take me with you?

Jody and Jerry Zamirowski were happy to grant my wish. The Glen Ellyn couple is among the 24 volunteers who monitor the bluebird nesting boxes at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. They’ve been doing it since 1996—because they enjoy it, and because the birds really need them.

As recently as the early 1980s there were no bluebirds nesting in this area. They’d been squeezed out by abundant non-native bird species like house sparrows and starlings, which compete with bluebirds for nesting cavities such as abandoned woodpecker holes. With less open space and fewer dead trees due to urban development, bluebirds faced a serious habitat shortage. That’s when bird clubs, local Audubon chapters and other concerned groups stepped in to help. Their grassroots efforts have made a huge difference all across the nation—bluebird numbers have been rising steadily for two decades.

This remarkable success story is reflected at the Arboretum. Ginny Stohr, manager of the project since 2002, says bluebird boxes first appeared at the Arb in the mid-1980s, when a Boy Scout troop donated about 15 houses. Bluebirds didn’t find them immediately, but they didn’t stay vacant for long. More boxes were added for a total of 34 by 1988. Today there are 102.

It takes a lot of boxes to move the needle because bluebirds are not the only species that uses them. The entry holes are sized to keep out starlings, yet tree swallows, house wrens and house sparrows are common invaders. In fact, only three of the 10 houses on Jody and Jerry's section of the “bluebird trail” were hosting the species they were intended for.

You can tell instantly what species is using a particular box. The tree swallow nests featured gobs of feathers from other birds. The house wren nest we encountered was just a mass of little sticks, from floor to ceiling.

We didn’t find any house sparrow tenants, but if we had they would have been evicted. Other species, primarily tree swallows, are welcome to stay. Jerry and Jody informed me that bluebirds raise two and sometimes three broods in a single season. Tree swallows only raise one. So when baby swallows fledge, their nests can be cleared out, creating new space for bluebirds.

The first box we opened—by Jerry, with his trusty Phillips-head screwdriver—contained five baby bluebirds, huddled together in a tidy nest of brown grasses. It was a perfect scene, exactly what a monitor hopes to find.

Seventy-nine bluebird nests were recorded at the Arb in 2008, the most since 84 nests in 2001. The average nest count in the 1990s was just 45.

The key stat, though, is fledged birds—bluebirds that hatch and survive. There were 216 fledglings in 2008, and 268 in 2007, the best year ever. In the 1990s, the average was 118. More nesting boxes contributed to the growth, along with an intensified volunteer effort.

Collecting all the data is hard work. Monitors like Jody and Jerry must check their assigned boxes at least once a week. They record the number of nests, eggs, hatched eggs and fledged birds. There's a lot of walking through high, wet grass—often to areas of the Arb that most visitors never see.

The fruit of this labor is that bluebirds—a species so beloved that there’s even a North American Bluebird Society—are now thriving in parts of DuPage County. This was unthinkable 25 years ago.

“It's birding with a purpose,” Jody told me, borrowing the DuPage Birding Club’s motto. “It's nice to go birding but it feels good to be helping the birds too.”

And she and Jerry are not just assisting Eastern bluebirds. They keep track of all the birds they see as part of a collaboration between the Bird Conservation Network and Morton Arboretum. Their observations, and those of the other monitors, have a direct influence on habitat management. For example, various open areas at the Arb are no longer mowed during nesting season for the benefit of grassland birds like bobolinks, dickcissels, meadowlarks, savannah sparrows and sedge wrens. We saw each of these species on the morning of my visit, with the exception of sedge wren, which Jerry had seen the week before.

“Just a slight modification in mowing practices can be good,” Jerry said, and he credits the Arb for being willing to manage the habitat based on real-time information provided by the bird monitors.

Not just willing, eager. Kurt Dreisilker, the Arb’s manager of natural resources, is a big fan of the bird monitoring program. The volunteers, he says, keep him well informed about birds inhabiting the grounds, supplementing his own data collection.

“They are incredibly devoted and motivated people,” Dreisilker said, speaking of the Zamirowskis. But he could have been describing any of the two dozen advocates who care so deeply about the Arboretum’s birdlife. It’s nice to see their collective efforts making such a positive difference. “Citizen science” is alive and well, just like the bluebirds.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Bluebird photo by Jody Zamirowski

Local birding landscape continues to evolve
(published 6-9-09)

One of the things I like most about birding is the surprises. Like the hairy woodpecker that's been visiting my peanut feeder. It has two red spots on its head instead of one. I swear.

Also strange was seeing a pine siskin in my backyard on May 20. I'd never seen one of these “winter finches” so late before—well after the last juncos had headed north. Siskins as well as white-winged crossbills were all over the region this spring, mingling with the warblers. Weird.

Cattle egrets—another big surprise. This spring they were seen grazing in Chicago's Lincoln Park and also at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. Not many birders, myself included, had ever observed this species in Illinois before.

The cattle egrets, plus my recent acquisition a 45-year-old booklet called Birds of The Morton Arboretum, started me thinking about changes in the local birdlife. What birds are showing up here now that never did before? And which ones were once common but now are rare or completely gone?

I found the booklet at a used book sale and what a treasure! It's even signed by the author. That would be the late Floyd Swink, the Arb's resident bird expert for many years who knew the place like his own backyard.

From Swink's species descriptions it's apparent that our avian landscape has changed a lot since the 1960s. Consider his write-up on the tufted titmouse: “Frequent in the woods; can be seen any time of year; it's cheery whistle is a commonly heard song.” Titmice were a nesting species at the Arb.

Today, finding a titmouse around here takes a lot of luck. The same goes for black terns, which Swink said were “flying over ponds and marshes May through September.” Not any more.

The text indicates that warblers such as cerulean, blue-winged and golden-winged were common, as were bobwhite quail and whip-poor-wills. As birders, we long for those days.

The booklet is also fascinating for the historic sightings it reveals. Like the golden eagle observed at the Arboretum on Nov. 10, 1946, or the burrowing owl seen on April 21, 1953.

One species not listed in the booklet that's been seen annually at the Arb in recent years is the yellow-throated warbler. Cattle egret is absent, too.

Indeed, there are a few other birds that are actually more common here today than 40 years ago. Examples are blue-gray gnatcatcher, red-bellied woodpecker and Carolina wren. The ranges for these species, as with yellow-throated warbler, have expanded northward.

But the hard reality is that a lot of birds are suffering alarming population declines due to habitat loss and other factors. Swink saw it happening 40 years ago, I'm sure, and now the trend is accelerating.

In March, several major conservation groups and government wildlife agencies teamed up to release The State of the Birds. It's an enlightening but sobering report that explains what bird species are in trouble and why. Out of the 800 species you could hope to see in the United States, 67 are listed as federally endangered or threatened. An additional 184 are on a watch list due to their small distribution, high threats or declining populations.

But it's not all doom and gloom. Sidebars in the report tell how some endangered or threatened species have bounced back. Among them: bald eagle, peregrine falcon and American white pelican. Even the rarest of all warblers, Kirtland's, is showing improvement.

Want more good news? In March, the Illinois Endangered Species Protection Board removed Henslow's sparrow, bald eagle and sandhill crane from its priority list.

The connection between birding and conservation has always existed but now it seems to be tightening. This is good, and some would say it's about time.

Birding is fun. That's why we do it. But we need to remember the big picture and give back. For some excellent ideas, check out 101 Ways to Help Birds by Laura Erickson. The State of the Birds report is well worth a look too, including the 7-minute summary video. You can see both at stateofthebirds.org.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

In May, every minute birding is time well spent
(published 5-6-09)

According to some financial advisers, the stock market crash and lingering recession means that those of us who had hoped to retire at 60 or soon after must now work until we are 80. Ouch. By then my eyes and ears might not be so good, and I need them for birding.

I'm exaggerating, of course. No way am I reporting to an office at 80, or even 70. My golden years, hopefully, will be filled with birding. In my yard, in DuPage County and all over the country. If there's any money left, maybe a few international trips, too.

I do envy those who are already retired and those with flexible work schedules. You have the freedom to go birding a lot more often. I had a taste of that a year ago at this time when I was job searching. Naturally I devoted some of my down time to watching birds. On weekdays! What a strange but delicious experience that was after 11 straight years of going to work Monday through Friday.

One morning I went to Elsen's Hill (at West DuPage Woods Forest Preserve in Winfield) and had the place to myself. By noon I'd enjoyed outstanding views of a singing wood thrush; watched an olive-sided flycatcher catch and eat a bumblebee; and heard an odd-sounding common yellowthroat that popped into view and then morphed into my second-ever Connecticut warbler. Wow! If this is “retirement living” then count me in!

Thankfully, my job hunt ended successfully after a few months. So this migration season my time for birding during the week is limited, just like the old days. And once again, I'm looking for ways to add a little more birding time to my daily routine.

One of the great things about birding is that you can do it anywhere. Another is that it doesn't have to be time consuming. Birds are all around, especially now. It's just a matter of noticing them.

Take your lunch outside a few times this month. Sit in that green space outside your office building. Walk, if you can, to the nearest park. Drive to the closest forest preserve. Then fill your binoculars with a scarlet tanager, a Baltimore oriole or indigo bunting. If you're really fortunate, a Blackburnian warbler. But even a less dazzling migrant, like a catbird or flycatcher, can make your day. Just the sound of a catbird is enough for me.

Try to maximize your backyard birding, too. Take your morning coffee or tea outside—a few minutes on the patio can yield surprising rewards. On Easter I watched a migrating American bittern fly over my home, heading north. As “yard birds” go, this one was a complete bonus—a species I never expected to see. Timing is everything!

But it's also the magic of spring, when the treasure hunt we call birding is at its best. What will we see today? In May, the possibilities are always exciting. Keep a pair of binoculars close.

Whatever you do, get out this month and enjoy the birds. Watch them as much as you can—for a few minutes, a lunch hour or all morning long. If you're retired and have lots of time, lucky you! For the rest of us, it helps to remember that “spring migration fever” is a legitimate illness. The best remedy is a day off, weather permitting.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Seven woodpecker species possible in DuPage
(published 4-29-09)

It was an interesting winter in my backyard, highlighted by three common redpolls at the thistle feeder on Super Sunday. It was the first time we'd hosted this species since moving to Glen Ellyn in 1997!

Another satisfying feeder sighting—on the peanuts, not the thistle—was a pair of hairy woodpeckers. These are not “locally rare” like redpolls but they're far from common in the neighborhood. Until February, in fact, I'd never once seen a hairy use my feeders. It was the kind of small victory that we birders tend to cherish.

This is a good time to discuss woodpeckers because April is when one of our best-named birds passes through our region, on its way north. Yes, there really is a yellow-bellied sapsucker, and now is time to watch for it.

You might see evidence of sapsuckers before you see the bird itself. The telltale sign: a grid pattern of little holes or “sap wells” etched in tree trunk or branch. Their precision woodworking doesn't usually harm the tree, but the holes may be visible for years.

The fruit of their labor, naturally, is sap, which sapsuckers consume with special tongues that have a brush-like tip. The sap attracts insects too, which are a key part of the bird’s diet. Another cool fact: the sap wells can be a food source for hummingbirds in early spring, before nectar is available.

The yellow-bellied sapsucker is one of 22 woodpecker species in North America, and among the seven you can see in DuPage County. The most common by far is the downy. Like the hairy, his larger, look-alike cousin, downy woodpeckers are non-migratory.

Downy vs. hairy is really the only significant identification challenge with the local woodpeckers. The key differentiation is bill size—tiny on the downy, prominent on the hairy. Body size is a good clue as well. If you are used to seeing downies at your feeder and suddenly a hairy flies in, you'll notice the difference. The males of both species have a red spot on their heads.

The four other woodpeckers to look for are red-bellied, Northern flicker, red-headed and pileated. I don’t see red-bellieds in my yard nearly enough, but they are increasingly common in our local woodlands. That wasn’t always the case. Traditionally a “southern woodpecker,” the range for this species has expanded northward in recent decades.

The red-bellied woodpecker, by the way, needs a better name. Its red belly is just a small pinkish area that’s not usually obvious. “Zebra-backed woodpecker” would be a lot more descriptive.

The red-headed woodpecker, which is perfectly named, is hard to find around here. While I dream that one of these striking birds will some day visit my yard, that's not very likely. Their population is sharply declining because of habitat loss; they prefer long-dead, barkless trees in open areas. Churchill Woods Forest Preserve in Glen Ellyn is worth a try if you are searching for a red-headed. When visiting Cantigny Park in Wheaton, check the trees around the First Division Museum.

Northern flickers, unlike other woodpeckers, are often seen on the ground. That's because ants are one of their favorite foods. Flickers are easy to ID in flight—look for a large patch of white on the rump. If you get a good look, the bird's yellow wing and tail linings will be evident, too.

One other woodpecker, the pileated, is considered a prize sighting in DuPage. Field guides indicate the species is possible here year-round. That's true, but actually seeing one is another story. The Chicago region just doesn't seem to hold them.

A year ago I saw my first pileated woodpecker in Illinois while birding at Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien. It was a fleeting glimpse, but there is no mistaking this species, the largest woodpecker in North America. (Assuming, very reluctantly, that the ivory-billed is extinct.)

Woodpeckers are a pleasure to observe. They are beautiful, conspicuous birds with a lot of personality. I especially like their distinctive markings and their sometimes raucous calls. If there is a red-bellied woodpecker or a flicker in your neighborhood, you'll hear it. To study woodpecker vocalizations, visit the “All About Birds” section of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, a terrific online resource.

Finally, another thing to appreciate about woodpeckers is the service they perform for other birds. Species such as kestrels, bluebirds and screech owls—which lack the ability to chisel out their own nesting cavities—sometimes use those created by woodpeckers.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Downy woodpecker photo by Bob Spitzer

Identifying sparrows: You can do this!
(published 3-18-09)

There will always be certain families of birds that challenge our identification skills more than others. For some it's the warblers, those colorful migrants that tantalize us every spring and then pass through again in the fall, traveling in disguise. I have this image of the males packing away their mating season finery in little trunks, somewhere up in Canada, and then starting their journey south.

But warblers are easy to ID compared with other groups. Some gull species have the annoying habit of assuming different looks during their first three years of life. And the field marks we rely on to tell gulls apart can be subtle at best. Ditto for shorebirds. Trying to sort out the various “peeps” on a busy mudflat or beach is a headache waiting to happen.

Some people think of sparrows as being hard to manage as well. I disagree. True, they all tend to be brownish. Some are even drab. But as with most birds, if you look at sparrows closely you will be rewarded. You'll see the markings that distinguish them, and you will notice a subtle beauty that few take the time to appreciate.

Many sparrow species are quite easy to observe. Most prefer the ground, not the tops of trees. They are less hyperactive than warblers. And, because a big part of their diet is seeds, they like to hang around feeders. Of the 20 or so sparrow species you could expect to see in DuPage County, more than half are potential visitors to your backyard. That includes juncos and towhees, which are sparrows too.

Before going on, let's dispose of House Sparrows. No, not literally, though most of us wish we could. If your backyard is anything like mine, House Sparrows are a pest. There are simply too many of these gluttonous birds, which are actually members of the finch family, imported here from England in the 1850s.

It's the true sparrows that deserve our attention. Most of them are noticeably smaller than House Sparrows, with finer features and markings. They are generally seasonal visitors as well.

Just as robins can be found here in winter, so can several kinds of sparrows. Sightings of Song, Fox or White-Throated Sparrows are not uncommon when the snow flies. This winter, in fact, I occasionally spotted one or two White-Throateds under my feeders. Another species, American Tree Sparrow, only visits this region from late fall through March. To them, Chicagoland is a winter hot spot! They spend the rest of their time on the Arctic tundra.

But now, in March, is when the sparrow activity really starts to pick up. Song Sparrows arrive on the scene first, followed in April by Fox, Chipping, White-Throated and White-Crowned. Watch for them under your feeders and bushes, and try tossing a some millet seed on the ground or patio to help attract them. The Song and Chipping Sparrows will stay with us all summer, while other species head north to their breeding grounds.

This spring, make a point to watch a male White-Throated Sparrow with its bold black and white striped crown and bright yellow spots between the eye and bill. It's a beautiful bird (especially from the neck up) that's easy to observe and deserves a closer look. Seeing one and hearing its sweet song has been known to change a beginning birder's opinion about sparrows!

A few sparrow species, Lincoln's and Field, have visited my yard only once or twice, and I treasure those rare sightings. The finely marked Lincoln's sparrow can be difficult to find anywhere. Field sparrows, on the other hand, are quite common in their usual habitat. (Guess what? They like fields!)

Several local sparrow species require vast grasslands to thrive and for that reason their local populations have been declining. Fortunately, intense restoration efforts at places like Springbrook Prairie Forest Preserve in Naperville are paying dividends.

Springbrook is probably the best local spot to find Henslow's and Grasshopper Sparrows. These are secretive birds, however, so it's a big help to study their songs and call notes before starting your search. If you're new at this, a good strategy is to join other birders on a field trip that focuses on grassland species. Visit dupagebirding.org for a schedule of upcoming trips conducted by the DuPage Birding Club.

It was a Springbrook field trip, in fact, that led me to my first and only Nelson's Sharp-Tailed Sparrow. Now that was a secretive bird! At least Henslow's and Grasshopper will occasionally perch on a weedy stalk or fencepost. Not the Nelson's. It took several hours to finally catch a satisfying glimpse as the bird moved mouselike in the grasses along the edge of a pond. But what a little beauty with its orange face and breast—definitely worth the effort.

I haven't seen all the species that naturally occur in this region. That's okay—it gives me some birds to look forward to. Two of them are sparrows, Vesper and LeConte's. I'll track them down one of these days. Then, just maybe, I'll take on the challenge of those gulls and shorebirds. For birders, there is always something new to learn.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Recalling RTP, the most famous birder of all
(published 2-3-09)

In the history of American birdwatching, two names stand out: John James Audubon and Roger Tory Peterson. They were the giants, each belonging to a different era. Audubon lived from 1785 to 1851. He was a painter, not a birder as we think of birders today, but he raised the public's appreciation for birds. And of course his namesake organization remains a positive force on conservation issues.

Peterson passed away in 1996 at age 87. He invented the modern field guide in 1934 and spent his life perfecting it. Along the way he established himself as a multitalented bird man, sharing his considerable skills as a writer, painter, photographer, public speaker, ornithologist and educator. Peterson's later years were filled with honors, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1980 from Jimmy Carter, an avid birder himself.

In 2008, birding magazines celebrated the 100th anniversary of Peterson's birth. Numerous articles appeared by people who knew Peterson well, and some by people who met him just once and never forgot the encounter. I read them all, attempting to satisfy a personal craving for more information about the man who helped introduce so many of us to the world of birds and nature.

Just the name Roger Tory Peterson recalls my “nature boy” days in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. My favorite magazine then was Ranger Rick, and each year its publisher, the National Wildlife Federation, issued a set of nature stamps. I collected those stamps with a passion, affixing them in the paperback booklets and then placing each year's booklet in a handsome wine-colored album from NWF.

The stamps and supplies were well worth my allowance money because the featured artist was Peterson. How I admired his work and reputation! Though I'd never seen RTP in person or on television, on the hero scale he was right up there with my baseball idols, Roberto Clemente and Brooks Robinson.

Naturally I knew about Peterson's field guides, too. Our home in Ohio contained several from the series, including the one for eastern birds. I used the checklist in the back to record my sightings. Today I keep one Peterson bird guide at home and one at the office. Neither one stays closed for very long.

But while the field guides exhibit the talents of the author and artist, they don't reveal much about Peterson the man. For being such a legendary figure in the fields of birding, ornithology and nature publishing, Peterson kept a low profile. He related well to people and (like Audubon) enjoyed his celebrity status. But RTP had a shy and reclusive side as well.

I only know these things because I just finished reading an outstanding new biography called “Birdwatcher: The Life of Roger Tory Peterson.” Researched and written by Elizabeth J. Rosenthal, this is a book birders have been waiting for. It goes way beyond all the magazine tributes, taking us inside Peterson's remarkable life.

Without taking her subject down a notch, Rosenthal shows us RTP's human side. We learn about his deficiencies as a husband (three wives) and his shortfalls as a father—neither surprising given his workaholic ways and a global travel schedule that included 18 trips to Antarctica to study penguins, his favorite bird family. We're told that he sometimes procrastinated, ate too many sweets and could be a little tight with money.

We also discover that Peterson was not keen on getting up early—quite a liability for a birder! He was a night owl, preferring to work late in his Old Lyme, Connecticut, art studio.

Peterson always had a lot on his plate. He was consumed by projects, including constant updates to his many field guides—eastern birds, western birds, wildflowers, butterflies and more. An unfinished page to the fifth edition of his guide to eastern birds was on his painting easel when he died, which shows how Peterson pushed himself to the very end. We should all be so driven, and our talents so in demand, when we approach 90 years old!

For more information about “Birdwatcher,” visit www.petersonbird.com. And be sure to read the book—you'll be glad you did.

Also worth noting is the new “Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America,”also released in 2008 and the first time eastern and western species are covered in a single Peterson volume. So, more than 12 years after his death, RTP's body of work continues to grow.

Appropriately, the new guide's cover features a Northern Flicker, the species that sparked Peterson's interest in birds as a boy. His encounter with that woodpecker lasted only a moment, but what a career that moment inspired.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Ten ideas for the new year
(published 12-24-08)

This column was born five years ago next month, though not in this newspaper. I'm grateful that the Daily Herald picked it up last spring, essentially promoting Words on Birds to the major leagues. In doing so, the paper also recognized that this birding thing is getting serious.

Birding is now a mainstream hobby, just like fishing, gardening and photography. Because of that, we can now talk about what we do without feeling embarrassed or defensive. I say better to leave those emotions to the folks who call themselves trainspotters!

Sorry, couldn't help myself. Any hobby is a good hobby if you enjoy it and it helps peel away the stresses of everyday life. But let's face it, birding is the best. In my very first column I listed some reasons why this is so. Birding is simple yet challenging. You can do it anywhere at any time. It's inexpensive.

And birding is fun! Whether you are out searching for a particular species or just glancing out the kitchen window, you never know what you might see. Discovery and surprise are as much a part of birding as getting up early.

Something else mentioned in that first column: I'm not an ornithologist. And that hasn't changed. I'm still just a birder who loves the hobby and wants to share it. Words on Birds is delivered in that spirit.

So with that in mind, I'll kick off 2009 with some friendly advice—and a new list! Here are 10 ideas for helping you enjoy birdwatching even more:

1) Upgrade your optics. It might be time. There is a huge difference between cheapo $75 binoculars and a $300 pair designed for birding. Buy what you can afford, but remember that optics and a field guide (see next item) are the hobby's only essential equipment. For buying advice and to see all the options, try the Eagle Optics website. Better yet, take a field trip to the store in Madison and sample the goods.

2) Get another field guide. It really helps to have a second resource, especially when confronted with an ID challenge. I refer to the Peterson, Sibley and National Geographic guides all the time. Each book has unique strengths, and each uses bird illustrations, not photographs. If your only field guide is the photo kind then definitely add an illustrated version to your bookshelf—they are better for highlighting a bird's key features, which simplifies the ID process.

3) Hone your skills, Part I. Assuming your bookshelf has at least one field guide, consider one of these: Sibley's Birding Basics and National Geographic's Birding Essentials. These two paperbacks are highly readable and worth their weight in gold if you want to improve your birding proficiency, no matter what your current skill level.

4) Hone your skills, Part II. Identification becomes a lot easier when you learn songs and call notes. And those who know them tend to find more birds. The Peterson “Birding by Ear” CDs are excellent. If you're an iPod user, look into birdJam or iBird—software packages that turn your device into a powerful electronic field guide.

5) Join a bird club. As president of the DuPage Birding Club I'm hardly an unbiased source. But being a member of any club adds a nice social dimension to the hobby. You can learn a lot from tagging along with expert birders on a local field trip, and you'll see new birds. The guest speakers at club meetings are interesting, too. To find out more about DBC, go to dupagebirding.org. Or e-mail me if you'd like to receive the club's latest newsletter.

6) Go birding in a new place. Joining a club may inspire you to get out more often and visit some new birding spots. Or just go on your own. Maybe there's a forest preserve that you've been driving by for years. Next time stop the car—you might see something new.

7) Sign up for IBET. Once you've sampled the local online birding community it's hard to log off. You'll see daily reports of common and uncommon birds, and you'll know where to go look for them if you are so inclined. On Thanksgiving Day I saw my my first white-winged crossbill in nine years, at the Morton Arboretum. I'd have never known to go there without IBET, short for Illinois Birders Exchanging Thoughts. To join this free listserve, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, then follow the instructions.

8) Add a feeder...Consider a specialty feeder that will help attract more species. A thistle feeder will draw goldfinches and pine siskins, or go with a peanut feeder to attract more chickadees, nuthatches and woodpeckers. And by all means have a hummingbird feeder ready when the calendar hits May.

9) ...and a heated birdbath. Fresh water is a backyard magnet for birds any time of year, and especially during the winter. Cleaning and filling takes discipline when it's frigid outside but the results will justify the effort. For durability, I recommend getting a birdbath that plugs in rather than a heating device that clips on to your existing bath. Your local bird store can show you the options.

10) Keep a log. If you're a regular reader, you know how I feel about list keeping. It can make you a better birder by raising your awareness of where and when species occur in our area. Listing sometimes gets a bad rap because of its competitive undertones. Don't worry about that. Keep track of what you see for the fun of it. Growing your lists can be motivating and a way to chart your progress as a birder.

Now it's time to get out there and bird. Or at least get back to the kitchen window. I wish you all many special sightings in 2009. Please share them with others. It's what birders do.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Feathery flashbacks: The best birds of 2008
(published 12-9-08)

The year isn't over yet. A hoary redpoll could still turn up at my thistle feeder. Or I could make local birding headlines by spotting a Bohemian waxwing during the Christmas Bird Count later this month. Hey, it's OK to dream, right?

It's fine to look back, too. No matter what happens in December, I've had a very good year, blessed with many special bird sightings. I hope the same goes for you.

Playing back the great birding moments of the past year is one of my favorite rituals. You should try it yourself—in a comfortable chair by the fire, perhaps with a glass of wine poured from a bottle with a bird on the label. It's a great way to savor the sights and sounds that make our hobby so rewarding.

I used to select a personal Bird of the Year but that was too difficult. Now I choose three: best yard bird, best field bird and best vacation bird. The latter is almost always a “lifer.”

Sometimes the selection process is simple. In 2008, my best yard bird was easily the prothonotary warbler that stopped by early on April 18—about 90 minutes after an earthquake jolted Chicagoland. By 6 a.m. it had already been quite a day! The prothonotary—a species normally associated with swamps—was my first warbler of the spring and a new addition to my yard list. Bright, unmistakable and so unexpected. It was all three. And in a few minutes it was gone. How incredibly lucky I was to have seen it.

Luck plays a big role in birding, we all know that. But sometimes we make our own luck by putting ourselves in exactly the right position to find a most-wanted bird. An American dipper was high on my wish list when we packed up the rental van for an old-fashioned family road trip last June. Our destination was South Dakota, and from pre-trip research I knew that dippers could be found in the Black Hills.

Talk about a unique bird. The American dipper, or “water ouzel,” is at home around fast-moving rocky streams. Plump and mostly gray, the species feeds on aquatic insect larvae and actually goes under water to obtain it. An extra eyelid enables it to see when submerged. This is fascinating to watch, and I was able to do so thanks to some excellent birdfinding advice from the owners of a cabin we rented near Deadwood, S.D. I was thrilled to find dippers in two places, the best known being Roughlock Falls in Spearfish Canyon.

It's a tough choice, because the black-backed woodpecker at Custer State Park was special too. But I'll go with American dipper as my best vacation bird of 2008. I'll remember the dippers just as well as Mount Rushmore. (And I loved Mount Rushmore.)

I was fortunate to have a few more birding opportunities than usual last spring. It was job searching time and one can only spend so many hours a day networking. Three particular excursions stand out. One of them, to Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Woodridge, produced fine views of my second-ever Bell's vireo and a yellow-breasted chat. Both species—always nice finds in DuPage County—prefer dense, scrubby habitat. If not for their loud, distinctive songs I'd have never tracked them down.

In early May, during a bird club outing to Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien, I caught a brief glimpse of a pileated woodpecker—the first I'd ever seen in Illinois. The pileated is big and impressive, even to a non-birder. Plus they are quite uncommon in these parts.

But my favorite field bird of 2008 occurred at the Morton Arboretum. There, acting on a tip, I located a species that had always eluded me locally. And that's despite the fact that summer tanagers seem to be turning up with greater frequency in DuPage County. On May 28 my luck finally turned. On the Arb's east side, near Parking 7, I encountered a blazing red-orange male that nearly blew out my optics. His mate wasn't bad looking either.

The memory of those tanagers will help sustain me through the long, cold winter ahead. Or at least until the red-winged blackbirds return in late February. By then we'll all be counting down the days until spring migration begins in earnest.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.