The water this Northern Pintail is in has human poo in it, which completely ruins the experience of seeing this bird. Oh wait, it doesn’t. Radio Road, Redwood Shores, CA.
The majority of diehard birders do not care where they get their birds. Slaty-backed Gull at a dump, Baikal Teal at a sewage pond, Yellow-green Vireo at some random park in the ghetto…if a place collects birds, birders will go there.
There is a caste of birders, however, that do not subscribe to this way of birding…no. They actually will forego birding at places that aren’t “natural” enough. I’ve met a few birders like this, and for reasons I will attempt to explain…I’ve always found this attitude to be incredibly annoying.
Much to the amazement of birders, this Snow Bunting wintered in a parking lot next to an airport. It foraged in the cracks in the pavement where grass grew. I’m sure the thought of looking for this disgusting bird mortified more than a couple birders. Portland, Oregon.
For one, despite what I tell them, birders cannot always decide where they live based on the quality of habitat and birding opportunities nearby. So when people end up heavily birding urban areas, that’s often all that they have to choose from. Taking this into account, it comes off as being incredibly snobby an elitist to suggest that these types of birding spots are beneath you.
I just can’t imagine avoiding seeing a new bird because it’s location isn’t pristine enough. I know part of the experience of birding is taking in the beauty of the outdoors, but (call me crazy) I’m actually in it for the birds.
This Spotted Sandpiper (and American Avocet) carved out a living next to a salt mine. Is this such a terrible way to live? White Lake, North Dakota.
Early on in my birding career, I figured out that birds often have to make do in somewhat “unnatural” places, so birders should make do as well. The first place I started birding a lot was a sewage treatment plant…I still equate the smell of human waste with great birds. Not long after I discovered that place, I saw my very first rare bird…a Ruff, which was hanging out in a flood control channel in an industrial area. One of my all-time favorite places to go birding is the area around California’s Salton Sea, which was created when the Colorado River burst its levees and flowed into the Salton Sink…so not only does this place exist due to the hand of man, it was also an accident! It follows that anywhere that birds seem to rely on is a place of great value indeed.
Some people hate it, but I love car-birding…you can get so close to so many birds that would have nothing to do with you on foot. This Snail Kite, photographed from my treacherous 1999 Honda Accord, was right outside Loxahatchee National Wildlife Refuge, FL.
Townsend’s Warbler in a busy city park. Look beyond the mountains of dog poo here and there will be birds. Pine Lake Park, San Francisco, CA.
Of course, in these situations, you can also ask yourself what birds might think of these places. A golf course in the desert can be an oasis of food and shade to a hungry migrant that has been flying all night. An urban park can hold the same appeal…an oasis of green in a concrete desert. A marsh littered with garbage will still provide refuge for a bittern, considering in many places most wetlands simply don’t exist any more. I think you get my point.
If you are one of these nose-in-the-air people that I’m talking about, don’t mind me, I’m only the greatest living birder on the face of the earth. But know this: Roger Tory Peterson made his name in New York’s Central Park, among the bums, drug addicts, thieves and rapists. Whenever you write off a birding spot because it doesn’t appeal to your sensibilities….he must surely turn in his grave.
What’s better than finding a Tufted Duck? Walking right up to one and identifying it with your naked eye. This bird perenially winters on Lake Merritt, in the middle of Oakland, CA.
These White-tailed Kites resided between landfills, disturbed agricultural land, encroaching urban development and some man-made wetlands. This area was packed with birds, with more Golden Eagles than I’ve seen anywhere else at sea level. Just because a place isn’t pretty doesn’t make it worthless to wildlife, so why not check it out? Pacific Commons Park, Fremont, CA.
Well said FJ. Even up here, surrounded by hundreds of kilometres of wilderness, I spend time at the dump nd sewage lagoon. We even had a couple of rarities show up there, a pair of White-crowned Sparrows.
I remember RTP, he often used to drop by and share my cardboard.
And pylons, don’t forget the pylons!
Provocative, as usual, Mr. Jive.
I do kinda sorta get where the snobs are coming from. As a naturalist with a strong emphasis on ecology, I like to see plants and animals doing what they do sans human influence. The way they used to be before we messed everything up. The phalaropes I saw this month in McKenzie slough (ND) were more enjoyable to me than the phalaropes I saw the next day in a dank puddle right beside (literally) a screeching oil well (in western North Dakota), despite the view at the oil well being much closer. I like to know how phalaropes lived before oil wells.
That said, I fully grasp intellectually that is no such thing as an ecosystem on earth that is absent of human influence. I also understand that if we want to preserve biodiversity we NEED to study how birds and other organisms tolerate and adapt to our crap (literal crap, sometimes.) I do love going to the sewage ponds and other contrived ecosystems. Some of my best lifers have come from horribly unnatural settings. But the romantic ecologist in me is still a bit of a snob. That’s OK. It keeps me sane. When I fly into Tampa and see what used to be awesome wetland converted to mile after mile of subdivision, I need to get on the ground and get to somewhere that lacks any visible human artifacts, just to pretend it’s not an illusion that wild places still exist. After that, we can check out the urban canals.
Interesting post! When I started birding, I joined walks in Point Reyes National Seashore led by a brilliant birder, Rich Stallcup. We would meet in parking lots near trailheads, and at first I felt frustrated that he would take so much time to bird in the parking lot before we’d set out into nature. Finally it because clear that some birds were best observed in a noisy, dusty parking lot!
Case in point: Over the past year, Chicago’s birders have been abuzz about a female Northern Mockingbird, a bird which apparently isn’t too common in these parts. (That still makes me scratch my nest.) Where has she made her home? The parking lot of Binny’s Beverage Depot in one of the busier shopping districts of the city. She’s been dubbed “Minnie the Moocher.”
I love birding the grimy underbelly of Queens! From old abandoned Flushing Airport with its flooded runway and homeless colony to the backwaters of Jamaica Bay, where your view of the water is obstructed by razor wire…
I’m glad we’re all in agreement here folks. You are amazing people and all probably great birders.
@Kirby – Yes, I know exactly what you are saying, and thank you for sinking into the sewage with the rest of us.
While near Everglades NP I regularly checked a Burger King parking lot looking for a Common Myna…sometimes dumpster diving birding is necessary and highly entertaining, even when near a crazy hotspot. Though I never did get me that myna…
Kirby said it much better than I could. I’ll go see a rare bird anywhere and will definitely hit the sewage ponds to look for birds I’ll have trouble finding elsewhere. BUT, I’d much prefer to bird a place with some natural beauty and where people and their machines and pets aren’t in my face constantly…
Here here!
Urban birding has its gems! I can’t imagine turning down a new, rare, or beautiful bird because of the surrounding environment. For that matter, why bother seeing any bird that’s well out of its range? It is where it’s not supposed to be! Darn birds don’t behave…
It’s funny too that the same folks who insist on birding exclusively ‘al naturale’ bring all kinds of expensive equipment with them, instead of just a pair of moccasins and a loin cloth.
Birding from the car, or ‘safari style’ is also great, and since it’s not a common opportunity, I still find it a be a treat when it’s available. As you said, birds trust cars more than people.
Of course, there’s something irreplaceable about birding in the unfiltered, unadulterated wilderness, but that’s a treasure not all of us birders and not all of the birds can afford.
Totally dig the Avocet ghost behind that Spotted Sandpiper. Scientists have suspected that Avocets are capable of astral projection, but there’s been little proof until now. Well done!
Birding in the wilds has the added benefits of the possibility of not having to interact with people. Since I hate people, many of whom are slaves to their outdoor cats, I cannot relish a morning of peopleless birding enough.
@Laurence – Only you could combine the concept of astral projection with an avocet.
Aww shucks Felonious, maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet, someone with great plumage and a chickadeerful personality.
As for astral projection and the Avocet…they both start with ‘A’. I hope you’re not an Avocet Astral Projection Atheist (one who does not believe in the ability of Avocets to Astral Project themselves behind Spotted Sandpipers and such).
I can’t say that I’ve ever encountered a birder with this attitude (birding in Prospect Park probably didn’t give me many opportunities to do so) but it does seem to be common in non-birders who are trying to take an interest – always trying to commiserate with me about living in New York, and not getting it at all when I want to go to a sewage treatment plant for my birthday or spent Valentine’s Day at a garbage dump in Canada in the snow.