Herb Wilson

Running a marathon is a great test of human endurance. World-class marathoners raise their metabolic rate five times their resting metabolism as they traverse the 26.2 miles in about two hours.

In what seems to be a never-ending effort to test endurance limits, even more arduous competitive events have been created. Toss in a 2.4 mile swim and a 112-mile bike ride and you have the Ironman Triathlon. Other athletes run ultramarathons, long-distance races up mountains and races to see how far one can run in 24 hours.

For all of these events, the metabolic rate tops out at five times the resting rate so energy stores are depleted. These athletes are aided along the way with water and food (orange slices are particularly popular).

As astounding as these athletic feats are, they pale in comparison to bird migrations. A migrating bird burns energy more quickly than a marathoner. Flight is tremendously difficult and  a flying bird raises its metabolism at least eight-fold compared to its resting rate.

Some birds like Bar-tailed Godwits, Semipalmated Sandpipers and Blackpoll Warblers migrate over long expanses of ocean, flying non-stop for three days or more. These birds have to carry all the food and water they require. There no race volunteers handing out cups of water or food morsels. If these migrating birds hit the water, they die. Their energy stores are depleted.

Let’s get some perspective by considering the non-stop flight of a Semipalmated Sandpiper from Cobscook Bay to the mouth of the Amazon River in Suriname. That distance is about 2500 miles, almost 100 hundred marathons in three or four days. Even that feat pales in to Bar-tailed Godwits that fly non-stop for 7200 miles from Alaska to New Zealand.

Birds that migrate over land can stop and replenish their fat stores but they still do the equivalent of five or ten marathons in a night. Not too shabby!

How are birds able to do these extraordinary flights?

First, birds have much more efficient respiratory systems than mammals, reptiles and amphibians. The flow of air through our lungs is a two-way flow. The problem is that we are never able to fully evacuate the air in our lungs that has been depleted of its oxygen as we exhale. When we inhale a new breath with plenty of oxygen, it will mix with residual oxygen-poor air that we couldn’t exhale.

Birds are unique in having a one-way flow of air through their lungs. Thanks to two sets of air sacs, a parcel of air passes first into posterior air sacs, then across the lung, then into anterior air sacs and finally out the trachea.

To fuel a migratory leg, birds pack on fat. The break-down of fat releases energy as well as water. It’s not unusual for some birds to double their lean weight by gluttonously storing fat.  The fat is stored mostly below the skin of the breast and belly. Some ornithologists can assess the fat load of a bird by silhouette. Really fat birds jiggle when they walk.

We’re learning more about changes to body organs over the course of migration. Before migration, some birds increase the length of their gut. This modification allows them to put on weight more rapidly.

After fattening adequately, some shorebirds reduce their intestines and gizzards. Since the birds will not feed during a long flight, shrinking the gut lowers the weight.

At the same time, the flight muscles on the breast and the heart increase in size. Some birds also increase the size of their lungs.

Once birds arrive at their destination, they restore their organs to their original size.

How do birds flying non-stop for days deal with sleep deprivation?  Birds can shut down one side of the brain for a few seconds at time. The brain switches sides back-and-forth, essentially providing hundreds of mini-naps as the birds migrate.

Late this spring (https://web.colby.edu/mainebirds/2021/05/31/common-bird-names-and-eponyms/), I wrote about a movement to remove people’s names from the common names of birds. In large part, this movement is driven because some of these eponyms honor people with disreputable pasts. Most recently, McCown’s Longspur was changed to Thick-billed Longspur because McCown was a Confederate leader and advocate of slavery. Rather than review every eponym to see if the person has skeletons in his or her closet, advocates are arguing for the replacement of all eponyms with an adjective that describes some morphological or behavioral feature of each species.

The American Orniithological Congress is spearheading this initiative. In April, they hosted a Community Congress with many stakeholders in an effort to be as inclusive as possible. The virtual discussion is available on-line: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84GchnXInb8

Life is never simple. When we try to solve a problem, our solution may entail unexpected side effects. Social scientists call such effects unintended consequences.

Just listen to a litany of negative side effects of a new drug in a TV commercial. The drug may well help a patient but at the risk of incurring undesirable side effects. Sometimes an unintended consequence can be helpful. Aspirin relieves pain but it also has anti-coagulant properties that can reduce the likelihood of heart attacks and lower the severity of strokes.

Natural communities are ripe for unintended consequences because of the many interactions among organisms. I’ll start with my favorite example of unintended consequences that has an absurd but ultimately happy ending and then we will move on to some ornithological examples.

In the early 1950’s, the incidence of malaria increased dramatically among the Dayak people in the interior of Borneo. Malaria is spread by mosquitoes so targeting mosquitoes seemed like a reasonable solution. So, the World Health Organization (WHO) sprayed DDT broadly. The DDT killed many mosquitoes and malarial cases decreased dramatically.

But there were unintended consequences. First, the thatched roofs of the Dayak people started to fall in. There was a great increase in caterpillars that fed voraciously on the thatch. The reason for the caterpillar explosion is a bit murky but it seems that DDT killed both parasitic wasps that lay their eggs in caterpillars (ugh!) and lizards that made themselves at home in Dayak houses, feeding on the caterpillars.

But we’re not done. DDT gets more and more concentrated as one moves up a food chain. So, DDT levels are typically higher in top predators. In Borneo, domestic cats began to die and the result was a population spike in rats. The rats spread the plague and typhus. So perversely, the application of DDT resulted in the substitution of one horrible disease, malaria, with the plague and typhus.

So, what was to be done? DDT application was halted. The WHO decided that more cats needed to be brought in to control the rats. But getting cats into these dense forests with few roads and no airports posed an obstacle. In 1956, the United Kingdom’s Royal Air Force parachuted 14,000 cats into a village. What a tangled web!

Some recent research from England describes unintended consequences of feeding birds. This effect involves members of the chickadee family so the research may well be applicable to our local bird fauna.

We know that providing food to birds increases their survivorship but birds do not become dependent on our handouts. One unintended consequence of bird feeding is that aggregations of birds can facilitate the rapid spread of infectious diseases.

Kate Plummer and her colleagues examined the effects of garden bird feeders in England. These feeders are in urban and suburban backyards. Over the past 40 years, the number of species using feeders has increased significantly at the garden-scale. Furthermore, the many feeder-using birds show growing population sizes while the populations of species that do not use feeders has held steady.

Garden-feeding birds in the UK include four species of tits, the equivalent British common name for chickadees. The Great Tit and Blue Tit are dominant birds at feeders, chasing off Willow Tits and Marsh Tits.

Like our Black-capped Chickadees, tits nest in cavities. Willow tits are unusual among the feeder-frequenting birds in that they are in decline. The authors attribute this decline to the increase in blue tits. Blue Tits aggressively compete with Willow Tits for nest cavities. About 40% of Willow Tit nesting attempts fail because nest cavities are usurped by Blue Tits.  So, an unintended consequence of garden-feeders is the decline of Willow Tits.

At our feeders, Black-capped Chickadees are usually the dominant birds in mixed flocks of chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Red-breasted Nuthatches and White-breasted Juthatches. All are cavity nesters. It would be interesting to see if we are tilting the balance in favor of chickadees.

The nesting season has come to a close for most of our Maine birds. That means that many of our migratory breeding birds will be departing soon for their wintering grounds. Some have already left. Our swallows and many of our flycatchers are among the earliest migrants. We’ll have to wait until 2022 to see barn swallows and cliff swallows.

Warblers, vireos and thrushes will be streaming south throughout September.  The sparrow migration will pick up speed in October.

Migration, even for short distances, is an arduous task that demands a high expenditure of energy.  Two other events in a bird’s life entail equally high energy costs: nesting and molting.  The costs of each activity are so high that no bird can do two of them at once.

There are about 11,000 species of birds in the world so exceptions always arise when one tries generalize about birds.  That is certainly true of molting; exceptions to general patterns abound.  Nevertheless, we can make some general observations on molting.

We can start by asking why birds molt. Feathers are remarkably tough and strong structures, particularly when one considers how light they are. However, feathers do degrade over time.

The flight feathers on the wings deform on every downward power stroke of a flying bird. This deformation eventually causes the feathers to wear down, particularly near the tips.

Driving rain, contact with vegetation in flight and sand blown by the wind abrade feathers. Birds also suffer significant feather damage from feather mites and some bacteria.

Worn feathers do not form a smooth, aerodynamic surface on a bird, increasing turbulence as a bird flies. The turbulence makes flying much less efficient. Eroded feathers do not trap air as readily as fresh feathers, reducing the insulating properties of feathers.

Generally, birds undergo one complete molt every year.  During that molt, every contour feather on their body is replaced.  For a bird like a Chipping Sparrow, that entails replacing about 2,000 feathers.  A swan will have to replace over 25,000 feathers.  No wonder molting is so expensive.

The usual pattern is for the complete molt to occur after nesting but before any migration is begun. This sequence of nesting to molting to migration has obvious advantages.  After the breeding season, food is generally abundant enough to allow a post-breeding bird to find enough energy to fuel its molt.  Then, it is ready to migrate on fresh, efficient flight feathers.

A typical bird will have a second partial molt near the end of the winter.  Some of the body feathers will be replaced, transforming for example a drab, olive male scarlet tanager into a stunning red bird.  However, the flight feathers on the wings and tail are generally not replaced.  So, the northward migration must be done on worn feathers.

Some birds do undergo two complete molts a year.   Species that migrate very long distances and species that live in abrasive habitats (thorn scrub or coarse grass) replace all their feathers twice a year. 

It’s easy to see evidence of molting in the flight feathers of a flying bird.  The flight feathers are usually replaced in a sequence so that only a few feathers are missing at any time.  The innermost primary feathers and the outermost secondary feathers are molted first. In a molting bird in flight, you can see gaps or shorter feathers showing the current stage of wing molt.

Geese, swans and ducks as well as loons opt for the fast track during their flight feather molt.  All of the primary feathers are shed at once.  Until the feathers regrow, these birds are flightless.  The birds find sheltered wetlands with enough food to allow them to hide and feed as their primaries grow.

It’s fun now to start watching warblers as males turn from their gaudy breeding plumage to more muted colors.

One of the big stories of this bird breeding season is a mysterious epidemic that has lead to widespread deaths of songbirds. These deaths have been reported from Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana.

Species that are particularly susceptible are blue jays, American Robins, European Starlings and Common Grackles. Juvenile birds are disproportionately affected. Birds that are infected show swollen eyes, often with crusty deposits around the eyes. Some birds tremble, twitch or stagger around, suggesting some neurological damage.

So far, the epidemic has not reached Maine. But if you do see birds with the symptoms above, let people know through social media or by calling wildlife biologists or bird rehabilitators.

The epidemic began in May and seems to have peaked in June. We can hope that the epidemic will pass soon.

The peculiar feature of this epidemic is that we do not know the causal agent of this disease. The usual suspects have been eliminated: Salmonella, Chlamydia, West Nile virus and avian influenza virus. We don’t even know the general cause of the disease. It could be a virus, a bacterium, a fungus or some toxin in pesticides, herbicides of other chemicals.

From our shared COVID experience, we all appreciate the value of social distancing. If you should ever see ever see a sick bird from whatever cause at your feeder, you need to enforce social distancing among the birds by taking down your feeder. An active feeding station can be the basis of a super-spreader event.

Several people have asked if humans should be concerned about contracting a disease from infected birds. Yes, there are a number of zoonoses, the fancy word for diseases that can be spread from one species to another. In some cases, a disease organism may not produce serious symptoms in a bird but may make infected humans quite sick.

Let’s take a look at some avian zoonotic diseases. Avian tuberculosis is caused by a bacterium called Mycobacterium avium. These bacteria occur in the droppings of infected birds and soil that they contaminate. Humans acquire the bacteria by inhaling them from dried bird droppings or contaminated soil. In humans, the bacteria can cause lung disease, similar to tuberculosis.

Salmonella is a bacterium that affects the digestive system of birds. The greatest risk to humans is eating undercooked meat or eggs from infected birds. Although Salmonella infects many species of birds, the ones we should be concerned about are poultry. Salmonella in humans causes gastrointestinal distress, abdominal pain and fever. Make sure the chicken you bake is well cooked and the chance of acquiring Salmonella is very low.

E. coli bacteria occur in humans and many other animal species. Some strains of E. coli in birds ca be harmful to people. Digestive system problems and even kidney failure can be caused by the jump of some avian E. coli to humans. Like Salmonella, the route of infection is eating undercooked meat from an infected bird.

Ornithosis or parrot fever is caused by the bacterium Chlamydophila psittaci. It can occur in parrots, parakeets, turkeys, pigeons and other birds. In humans, it produces flu-like symptom and respiratory problems. Humans acquire the disease by inhalation of dried droppings of feather dust of infected birds.

Birds and humans may be infected by West Nile virus and equine encephalitis virus. However, a human cannot contract one of these viral diseases directly from an infected bird. Rather, the virus is spread by the bite of an infected mosquito.

Lyme disease provides another example of an indirect link between birds and humans. Lyme disease is caused by the bacterium Borellia burgdorferi, which infects deer ticks. Borellia is passed to a new host when the tick bites a host. Deer ticks are known to attach to birds as well as humans. With their ability to travel long distance, birds may be effectively spreading Lyme disease.

We see great variety in the shape, location and size of bird nests in Maine. The simplest nests are scrapes on the forest floor, fields or beaches.  The nest of a Killdeer is a good local example.  The female lays four eggs in a nest scrape just big enough to contain the eggs.  As you would expect, the eggs are well camouflaged.  In the woods, American Woodcocks and Whip-poor-wills create nest scrapes for their eggs.  For most species that create nest scrapes, little effort is made to line the nests with soft material. 

Piping Plovers make a similar sort of nest just above the high tide level on sandy beaches. Their nests are at particular risk because the eggs are so cryptic. The density of humans at the beach is high and beach walkers may unwittingly step on eggs or hatchlings.

For the past 35 years, the Maine Audubon Society has been conducting a project to protect Piping Plover nests while still accommodating the use of beaches by humans. Nests are located and surrounded by a wire exclosure. The openings are big enough to allow the plovers to move in and out but small enough to exclude mammal predators like raccoons, skunks, foxes, dogs and cats as well as gulls.  This year, 97 nests have been located.

The cryptic nature of the eggs provides some protection from avian predators. Mammals are a different story. Unlike birds, mammals have a well-developed sense of smell and can locate camouflaged nests with ease. Hence, enclosing a Piping Plover nest with a cage can reduce destruction of that nest by mammals.

Thanks to a link from Cliff Otto, I have learned of a clever new approach to reducing mammal predation on shorebird nests in New Zealand. With the exception of three species of bats, there are no native terrestrial mammals in New Zealand. However, there are large populations of introduced ferrets, hedgehogs and cats, all of which use their sense of smell to find shorebird nests.

Some New Zealand biologists decided to use trickery to reduce nest destruction by these introduced mammals. The biologists prepared a soup using bird feathers and the secretions from the preen glands of several types of birds. The soup had the unmistakable smell of an aviary or chicken farm to humans.

The biologists then mixed the concoction with Vaseline and painted thousands of rocks along a stretch of coastline where many species of shorebirds nest. The painting of the rocks was begun a few weeks before the shorebirds arrived to begin nesting. The biologists refreshed the smell by repainting rocks every three days for three months.

Sure enough, the mammals were attracted to the smells but soon quit following the scents when they realized the scents did not lead to food.

The biologists monitored the nesting success of several shorebird species in the experimental area as well as in a control area where no fake scents were administered.

The results were quite striking. The number of nests destroyed was nearly halved by putting out the fake nest smells. There were 1.7 times as many fledgling chicks in the experimental area compared to the control area.

To show the differences were caused by the fake smells rather than other differences between the experimental and control area, the researchers switched the treatments in the following year. The results were the same: the former control area now had higher nesting success.

Mathematical modeling of the results indicate that this conservation measure should produce a 75% increase in the population number of shorebirds in the next 25 years. Populations are expected to decline by 40% over 25 years without this intervention.

Mammals, particularly introduced mammals, can have devastating impacts on birds. This innovative approach in New Zealand provides a new conservation tool to reduce destruction of nests by mammals.

Most birds construct a bowl-shaped nest above the ground just large enough to fit an adult’s body.  We can consider the bowl-shaped nest of an American Robin as a typical nest.  Robins are not great architects but still have a remarkably complex nest.  The outer part of the nest is formed of twigs, coarse grass and sometimes pieces of cloth, string or other human-made products.  This outer layer gives the nest strength.  Within this outer layer, robins place a smooth layer of mud.  Finally, a layer of fine grasses is laid down to surround the eggs and aid in insulation.  Once the outer part of the nest is built, the female sits in the middle of the nest for the rest of the construction.  A snug fit is therefore guaranteed for the incubating mother.

Other species use specific materials for the inner lining of their nests.  Palm Warblers, a ground-nesting species in bogs, often place ERuffed Grouse feathers in their nests.  Tree Swallows line their nests with feathers, particularly white ones.  In the early breeding season, you can see aerial fights where tree swallows attempt to take white feathers from another Tree Swallow.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds create tiny nests to hold their two eggs.  The nest is made of down and small pieces of plant material bound together with spider webs.  The outer part of the bowl is covered with bits of lichens to aid camouflage. 

Waterbirds typically create bowl-shaped nests on the margins of lakes or ponds or even on floating vegetation.  In most cases, the outer layer of the nest is made primarily of vegetation.  If water levels rise, waterbirds will quickly add additional vegetation to keep the inner part of the nest dry.  The inner lining is made in part of down feathers that the female pulls from her breast.  These down feathers create a wonderfully warm place for the eggs.

The largest nests in Maine are made by birds of prey.  An Osprey nest may be five feet across.  The outer portion is made of sticks and miscellaneous debris.  The inner lining is made of smaller twigs, grasses and other soft material.

Bald Eagle nests are larger yet.  Some nests may be eight feet in diameter and 12 feet high, weighting over a ton!  Like Ospreys, Bald Eagles use the same nests year after year, adding material to the nest each spring. 

Finally, some of our nesting bird build their nests in cavities. Woodpeckers excavate their own cavities while others rely on natural cavities or abandoned woodpecker cavities.

The list of native cavity-nesting birds is diverse, including Wood Ducks, Hooded Mergansers, Great Crested Flycatchers, Tree Swallows, Black-capped Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, House Wrens, Eastern Bluebirds. These birds make a nest inside the cavity. For chickadees, the outer part of the nest is made of moss and the inner part of spider webs, soft grasses and plant down.

Two introduced species, European Starling and House Sparrows nest in cavities as well. These two species compete with native birds for available cavities. House Sparrows will kill nestlings of other species and take over the nest cavity. I am certainly not alone in having a clutch of Eastern Bluebirds lost to House Sparrows.

A good source for identifying nests based on their structure and location is https://nestwatch.org/learn/focal-species/

This month is the height of the nesting season for Maine birds. All of our birds have laid eggs and many of those have hatched,

The eggs that a female lays are, of course, vital for successful reproduction. Getting the chicks hatched and, for many species, feeding the young are critical steps in adding new birds into the population of each species. Aside from the efforts of the parents, nothing is more important in breeding success than the nest. A nest is an intricately designed, multi-functional structure.

A nest is more than a cup to hold the eggs. The nest facilitates efficient warming of the eggs by an incubating parent, usually the female. The curvature of the nest insures that the eggs nestle together to occupy the least possible area. The shape of the eggs and the next curvature result in close packing of the eggs.

The close-packed arrangement means the incubating parent can provide each eggs with warmth from its body. The close-packed eggs also help with heat retention. The parents make the nest just large enough for the parent to sit in, ensuring a cozy environment for the eggs and nestlings.

Birds are endotherms or warm-blooded animals. Even in the egg stage, the temperature of the embryos must kept near adult body temperature. Particularly when the incubating parent leaves the nest to forage or avoid a predator, the eggs are so close that they essentially act as one big egg rather than say, five small eggs.

In the absence of incubation, the eggs will lose heat to the air across their egg shells. But in a tightly packed configuration, eggs will give off some of their heat to neighboring eggs rather than losing it to the air. The same effect occurs when your dogs, cats or you with your sweetheart huddle together when the temperature drops.

A nest usually has several distinct layers but the inner one is usually composed of grass stems or other fine vegetation. These materials are good insulators. The eggs are laid in this inner layer so that the blanket-effect of the inner lining can help keep the eggs warm.

Egg and nestling predation by snakes as well as various birds and mammals is a serious threat. Nests are often built in thickly vegetated parts of a tree or shrub. Furthermore, the nests are cryptic. The outer layer is usually made of twigs that blend in well with the branch on which the nest is located.

The nest of a Ruby-throated Hummingbird is a cryptic marvel. Made only by the female, the nest has an outer layer of lichens stitched together by spider webs.

Birds and mammals have good eyesight and can sometimes discover a nest by watching the parents. The parents need to be furtive in flying to and from the nest..

Mammals, however, have a superb sense of smell so a smelly nest can lead a mammal to a nest, resulting in egg or nestling loss. To minimize the smell from the urine and poop of nestlings for songbirds and some other birds that have to incubate the nestlings, the young birds bind their digestive and urinary wastes within a membrane called a fecal sac.  When a fecal sac is passed out of the gut, one parent will take the sac, fly some distance from the nest and drop the fecal sac. Keep an eye out for this behavior.

Humans can unwittingly be an unintentional threat to nest success. More than one ornithological nesting study has been plagued by a predator watching an ornithologist as she goes from nest to nest to monitor reproductive success.  More insidious, some mammal predators learn to follow the smell of the researcher and eat the eggs or nestlings at the end of each trail.

Sound signals provide important ways for birds to communicate. Playing a recording of a bird’s song may attract the attention of a female and usually attracts the attention of males, intent on driving away the intruder. Alarm calls may attract a diverse group of birds, congregating to mob the threat that caused birds to issue the alarm.

The use of playbacks of recordings of those sounds has been a powerful tool for ornithologists for decades. Playing vocalizations at different times of the day or at different times of a season helps us understand the function of different sounds. Playbacks can be used to map the boundary of a bird’s territory. The ornithologist walks toward a singing male. The male will usually ignore vocalizations of a neighboring male until that male (or the playback) crosses into the first bird’s territory. In this fashion, it is possible to map the boundaries of a territory with amazing accuracy.

With the advent of smartphones and bluetooth technology, it is easy for a birder to play bird vocalizations to attract birds for a closer look. There are lots of apps of bird sounds available for smartphone use. A small bluetooth speaker emits a surprisingly loud sound, amplifying the relatively weak smartphone speaker. These playbacks are highly effective.

The use of playbacks has some ethical implications. A male bird’s stress hormones increase immediately after hearing the sound of a putative intruding male. Birds become agitated, increasing their metabolism. They must increase their food intake to replace those calories used in response to a perceived threat. The use of alarm calls has an even stronger effect. Playing a recording of chickadees mobbing an owl or the vocalizations of a Northern Saw-whet Owl attracts numerous individuals of multiple species.

I do not use playbacks when I am birding by myself. When I lead a field trip, I occasionally will judiciously use playback to attract hard-to-see birds. My logic is that the minute or so of stress on a bird from hearing a playback allows everyone in the group to see the bird. Spending ten minutes of more following the bird around to allow everyone to get a look may be more stressful on the bird. I never use playback in a frequently birded area because other birders may be using playbacks at that site.

Other birders use playbacks often. One example is Birding Bob, a New York City birder who plays vocalizations often and at high volume in places like Central Park. The New York Times recently posted a video op-ed of Birding Bob with commentary from several other birders. The video provides a balanced look at the pros and cons of using playbacks. You can see the video by clicking here.

The American Ornithological Society has a committee of taxonomic experts who maintain the Check-list of North American Birds. Birding organizations, publishers of field guides and the birding community in general follow this check-list.

The committee is responsible for evaluating records that will add new species to the check-list. They consider evidence for splitting an existing species into two or more new species as well as evidence for combining existing species into a single species.

The committee also maintains a list of standardized common names for North American birds. These standardized names are appreciated by most birders. It’s a lot easier to call the bird you saw a Blue Jay rather than Cyanocitta cristata.

The common names are often based on the Latin or Greek scientific names of birds. For instance, the scientific name of the White-throated Sparrow is Zonotrichia albicollis and albicollis means white throat.

Taxonomists often name new species after colleagues or friends. So Accipiter cooperi is the Cooper’s Hawk and Melospiza lincolnii is Lincoln’s Sparrow.

The checklist committee issues a supplement to the checklist every July, detailing any changes to the list. The committee just issued an addendum to the 2020 supplement. It has a single item, changing a common name, but this decision has much broader repercussions.

We have four longspur species in North America. The change affects a western species Rhyncophanes mccownii whose common name is changed from McCown’s Longspur to Thick-billed Longspur.

The name change was effected because of the increased efforts of the American Ornithological Society to heighten awareness of racial issues and the widespread retirement of Confederate symbols.

George Lawrence described the species in 1851 and named it after Capt. John McCown who collected the first specimen of the species.  However, McCown subsequently had a leadership role in the Confederacy and fought in the Civil War. Beginning in 2018, a movement was begun to remove McCown’s name from this species’ common name. The decision by the checklist committee was driven in part by George Floyd’s death and Black Birders’ Week, itself a response to the Central Park birding incident involving Christian Cooper and Amy Cooper last May.

This name change is not the first to address sexist and racist implications of a common name. Responding to a petition in 2000, the committee changed Oldsquaw to Long-tailed Duck. Ironically, male Long-tailed Ducks are the ones that are highly vocal with each other. But to base a bird name on old Native American women chatting loudly is offensive.

In April, the American Ornithological Society hosted a Congress on English Bird Names. Many stakeholders participated including the National Audubon Society, the American Birding Association and prominent birders like David Sibley.

The Congress was held in part to address the Bird Names for Birds movement. Supporters advocate for the replacement of all common names named after a person (eponyms) with a name describing a distinctive characteristic of the bird. For instance, Bicknell’s Thrush might become Treeline Thrush and Wilson’s Warbler might become Black-capped Warbler. Those new names are much more informative than eponymous common names.

There was very strong support for getting eponyms removed from common names entirely. I think this approach is a wise one.

Few would object to the removal of some eponyms. The Reverend John Bachman (Bachman’s Warbler, Bachman’s Sparrow) was a slave-owner and white supremacist. John Townsend (Townsend’s Solitaire, Townsend’s Warbler) practiced phrenology and raided Native American burial grounds for skulls.

But, no one wants to go through all the eponyms for North American birds (there are over 100) and judge if a person passes muster for having a bird named for her or him. It’s easier to just disallow eponymous common names.

Look for lots of common name changes in the next few years. It will take time to get consensus on new common names.

By the way, scientific names operate on a priority basis so Thick-billed Longspur will be Rhyncophanes mccownii in perpetuity, unless research shows it should be merged with another species whose name would have priority. Our longspurs are clearly distinct so I don’ t think any one doubts that the Thick-billed Longspur is a valid species. Common names are not bound by such naming conventions.

The fourth year of the Maine Breeding Bird Atlas is off and running. This five-year project  will provide an accurate mapping of the distribution of all the breeding birds in Maine. The project will provide a baseline for future projects to assess changes in bird distribution. Furthermore, it will provide a valuable comparison with the first Maine Breeding Bird Atlas, conducted from 1978 through 1983.

For the current atlas project, the state is partitioned into over 4,8oo blocks, each a 2.9×2.9 mile square. To complete a block, a minimum of 15 hours is required and solid evidence of nesting for 60% of the species.

Of course, a project of this magnitude requires the help of many volunteers. And what an army we have. So, far 1,875 volunteers have participated in the project, submitting over 62,000 checklists, including evidence of breeding behavior. The database currently has 3.6 million records! We have firm breeding evidence for 216 species.

Even with so many volunteers, the organizers know that is not reasonable to expect that every block in the state can be completed. So, the organizers designated 975 of these blocks as Priority Blocks. These blocks are distributed fairly evenly across the state. Some were chosen because of unusual habitats.  At a minimum, we need to complete all of the Priority Blocks.

How are we doing? A third of the Priority Blocks are complete, 35% have received very little attention and 32% are well underway. The coordinators of the project want to have 60% of the Priority Blocks completed this year. That translates to 230 Priority Blocks being completed in 2021.

Current volunteers are eagerly embracing the challenge but it will be difficult. If you have not participated in the project, we can use your help.

Bird atlasing is quite different from participating in a bird count like the Audubon Christmas Bird Count. In the latter, an observer identifies a bird, adds it to the list for the day and moves on.  Bird atlasing is a more leisurely activity. You find a bird and then watch if for a while, looking for evidence of nesting. Such evidence includes singing, carrying nesting material, courtship displays, feeding nestling or tending fledglings.

Nesting schedules for our bird vary. Great horned owls begin nesting in late January. Black-capped chickadees and house finches may nest as early as mid-April. Pileated woodpeckers and osprey follow suit in early May.

However, the majority of our birds, particularly the songbirds, nest in June and July. It’s important to wait until all the spring migrants have passed through so we know we are not recording a singing migrant as a possible breeder.

Point your browser to: https://www.maine.gov/ifw/fish-wildlife/maine-bird-atlas/index.html. There are lots of links to explore but I recommend beginniing with the Get Started button.

The state has been divided into 31 Regions. Each Region has one or more highly skilled birders who serve as a contact for anyone interested in volunteering. If you return to the Maine Bird Atlas home page and scroll down, you will see a link on the left with email addresses for the Regional Coordinators. Send an email to your Regional Coordinator if you have questions.

Another great way to be introduced to the project is to attend one of the weekly Zoom seminars hosted by the project directors. The sessions are held every Thursday night from 6:30-7:30. The directors will explain the project and answer any questions you might have. Here’s the link: https://tinyurl.com/4vfxcdjd

To see where your contribution would do the most good, visit the effort map at: https://ebird.org/atlasme/effortmap

The Priority Blocks are outlined in black. The amount of effort for each block is indicated by a color code. Concentrate on Priority Blocks and welcome to the team.