Naturally: We can help birds in trouble
I enjoy reading a modest little magazine called

Bird Watcher’s Digest.

Why anyone thought I’d enjoy reading about birds and give me a
subscription, I’ll never know.
Naturally: We can help birds in trouble

I enjoy reading a modest little magazine called “Bird Watcher’s Digest.” Why anyone thought I’d enjoy reading about birds and give me a subscription, I’ll never know.

Each time it arrives, my evening’s activity is planned. It’s a lot less technical and a little more joyful than the other bird-related publications out there, and I usually enjoy the respite from heavier things.

The current edition contains a regular feature called “Quick Takes,” by – I kid you not – David M. Bird. Bird’s notes this time were anything but joyful. But each time he hit us with bad news, Bird tantalized us with hope.

Mercury, which is usually found accumulating in streams, lakes and estuaries, has been found in unusually high levels in the blood and feathers of 178 woodland songbirds living in New York State.

David Evers, biologist and executive director of the Biodiversity Research Institute in Gorham, Maine, first found astronomical levels of mercury in common loons. That makes sense, since loons breed on Northern lakes, where they subsist on a diet of fish.

But it was when Evers began looking at wood thrushes that he was surprised. They, too, showed high levels of mercury. The small, speckled songbirds eat insects and the like.

The big problem with high levels of mercury is in its side effects. It causes lethargy and poor reproduction. Bingo. That goes a long way to possibly explaining why their numbers have declined by 45 percent in recent decades.

Where is the mercury coming from deep inside the forests of upstate New York? Likely from both New York power plants and from smokestack emissions from coal-fired plants in the Midwest.

As a result, the state government may cut power plant emissions in New York in half by 2010.

Moving right along, Bird chronicles the decline of the rusty blackbird, once a common little bird in the eastern states. The bird’s population may be off by as much as 85 to 95 percent.

Again, mercury is one of the suspects, along with the loss of breeding habitat, bottomland forests for wintering and pesticide runoff.

Anyone in the rusty blackbird’s range can help in field research by reporting sightings to the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology at www.ebird.org/content.

Moving into California, Bird noted that tricolored blackbirds also are in trouble. These birds are found in our own area. They look like red-winged blackbirds with the addition of a prominent white bar just below their crimson shoulders.

Once to be found in the millions, nearly all the population was contained in California. In 1994, 370,000 were reported in the state. By 2000 the number had been reduced by half again, to just 162,000. Now that’s still a lot of showy little birds flying around, but the trend is clear.

This time the problem is likely to be the clearing of wetlands and grasslands where they nest and feed for both housing and agriculture.

The birds are often found mixed in with other blackbird species around waterways and dairies where birds congregate. They are the most social bird in North America, often building nests just a yard apart.

Now some good news: group has petitioned the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to protect the “trike” under the Endangered Species Act. Further, the Point Reyes Bird Observatory periodically asks citizens to participate in a continuing survey effort.

The last such survey was in 2003, but if you want to help, bookmark http://www.prbo.org/trbl/ and check it periodically for updates.

Now, why should we care about a couple of blackbirds and a thrush? That’s a legitimate question, and one I don’t easily dismiss.

There are all the aesthetic reasons, of course. They sing different songs, wear different colors and behave differently, and most of us don’t want to feast on the same thing for the rest of our lives.

But there’s also the opportunity to learn. Farmers clear forests in Central America, and birds disappear a continent away. Wood thrushes show us mercury moving through the food chain. Does that teach us something ultimately relevant to humans?

Finally, unnecessarily squandering an entire species seems wrong, a sin of great gravity.

Note: One of the most charismatic little birds in our area is the burrowing owl. Its numbers, too, are declining. Two were recently injured during roadwork along Highway 152 east of Gilroy. One was turned over to rehabilitators, and it is nearly ready for release. However, another person who rescued the first bird’s mate elected to keep the bird to nurse it himself. If you’re that person, and you’d like to help put the happy couple back together, please get in touch with me.

Mark Paxton is publisher of The Pinnacle. His e-mail address is mp*****@pi**********.com.

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A staff member wrote, edited or posted this article, which may include information provided by one or more third parties.

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