True confessions of a bird census volunteer

As birding trips go, squeezing in a half hour walk before work may not qualify as good strategy or good science. I mention good science in particular because I have never been particularly good at science.

That said, I did start college as a biology major. That effort lasted several terms before the director of the program pulled me aside and said something on the order of: "Chris, you have a lot of good attributes. But being a scientist is probably not one of them. So here's the deal. You donate those frog illustrations to the bio department and finish up these taxidermic specimens in your artistic style and we'll give you a B in this course (Field Biology.) But you're struggling in the lab work and I've already spoken to the Art department. They await you with eager and open arms."

So that was that. My career as a professional scientist ended in the middle of my sophomore year in college. I still conducted an independent study at the Laboratory of Ornithology at Cornell University that winter. My project was curating the entire collection of bird art in the lab library. I corrected a number of misidentified drawings of birds and hung around the Hawk Barn drawing peregrines and gyrfalcons, but you could hardly call my 3 weeks in Ithaca a scientific endeavor.

I mention all this because my walk this morning at Dick Young Forest Preserve/Nelson Lake Marsh reminded me of another somewhat failed effort at science, this time the citizen variety. From 2001-2005 I conducted bird surveys on the west side prairie restoration. I took this work quite seriously. Plotted my GPS points and logged them carefully on note cards. Counted off the steps to make sure I could return to the precise location each time. For 5 years I walked my line of observation points, writing down the species and numbers of birds I heard and saw. Something in me really wanted to do that project right. Perhaps it was the latent scientist in me, the part that never got to finish the biology degree.

There was just one snag. I could not get my entries logged into the Bird Conservation Network web site. I could log in. I could enter the data. But it never let me finish the part that would make my information flow into the database.

Later I learned it was a Mac versus PC issue. I am a Mac user and the software driving the BCN program did not recognize commands from a Mac. So I sent my forms In for the BCN volunteers and staff to enter, but somehow that never happened. I don't blame anyone for this. It is my responsibility to get that information into the system. You can't expect other people to do your science for you.

But then one morning in June a few years ago, I was walking back from conducting my first census of the new season when I encountered another birder walking the path toward me. I knew right away she was a serious birder. You know the look. Plus she had a notebook and the focused demeanor of some assigned to do a job. So I stopped to inquire about her purpose and she explained that she was there to conduct a census of the prairie for the Bird Conservation Network. I was shaken. "I've been doing this route for 5 years!" I exclaimed. She stammered an awkward reply about being assigned and made her way down the path.

I admit I was angry. But I realize I was more angry at myself for not having done a good job at my assigned task. Just the same I sent in my forms one more time only to have them returned a year later. Just for the record; I repeat that this dysfunctional approach to a job poorly done was no one's fault but my own.

What hurts is that my intentions have always been good. Way back in the early 1980s a group of us birders in Kane County formed the Nelson Lake Marsh Bird Survey Team. At that point the county only owned a quarter of the prop

erty now comprising the Dick Young Forest Preserve. Our team consisted of 5 or 6 birders including the late Bob Horlock, an avid birder and high school biology teacher who was known for his work in prairie restorations. He passed away in 1993 while burning the prairie at Garfield Farm in St. Charles. There was Bob Montgomery, then a biologist at Max McGraw Wildlife Foundation and a leader of Kane County Audubon. A few other members rotated in and out of service but our mission was to chronicle bird species both common and rare. We met quarterly and reported on our assigned territories. I think one of the Bobs collated our reports and turned them over to the county in case they were needed to justify further protections for the property. Perhaps these studies even contributed to the designation of Nelson Lake as an Illinois conservation area.

All these thoughts came rushing back as I wandered out on the prairie restoration area of the preserve. The sign documenting Dick Young's contributions to its preservation greeting me as I strolled the limestone path headed toward the new shelter. I could hear the songs of marsh wrens in the pothole below. A family of pied billed grebes was feeding there as well. Yellowthroats and song sparrows were singing. In the newly planted oak near the shelter I found a sight I'd always wanted to see; a dickcissel and western meadowlark perched in the same tree. Their bright yellow breasts with black bib matched almost perfectly. Each was singing their own song.

Out beyond the shelter I could hear the songs of bobolinks, the hiss of grasshopper sparrows and the distant chap-chap-chapperrrr of sedge wrens. It is census season and I assume someone is signed up to count that area. I've learned to follow through on spring and fall census counts, but still have a ways to go before having my work count for the summer census season. It's funny how our knowledge of nature comes down to keystrokes and paperwork.