The Monadnock Region's 100th Annual Christmas Bird Count
Bohemian Waxwing - Innocent Songbird or Y2K Menace?
On the face of it, it seemed like an innocent enough assignment - call up volunteer
members of the National Audubon Society and get the results from their annual Christmas
Bird Count, take a look at the numbers and present some sort of general overview. It
wasn't long however, before it became apparent that there are deep forces at work in the
world of New Hampshire ornithology - deep, suspicious and even sinister forces.
A little background first:
Each year since 1900, the National Audubon Society has sponsored what is called a
Christmas Bird Count. On one day each year - usually Christmas or a weekend day just
before or after - volunteers bird-watchers at 2,000 sites around the United States take a
census of the birds they see. They record the number of species, the number of individuals
and other important demographic information. This provides data for the Audubon
Society to track bird populations across the country. It does not actually tell the
organization exactly how many birds there are in a given area, but it does provide an good
overview of what the most common birds are in that area. This count takes place around
Christmas because in northern climates, it is easier to actually spot birds that might be
hiding in trees at other times of the year. In addition, it is a time of year when many more
volunteers are available to count. In the Monadnock region, the Count took place on
Saturday, December 18th, this year.
The results of this year's Bird Count are interesting.
The counting in the Keene area took place within a circle 15 miles in diameter centered on
the intersection of West Street and Bradford Road in Keene. This gave Keene bird-
counters a large number of environments to observe - forest, town, backyard feeders,
fields, lakes, rivers and marshes. Over the course of the day, the Keene Counters tallied
over 6,000 individual birds of 39 species.
Robert E. Ritz, the Compiler for Keene's Bird Count says that data is still coming in, but
that the preliminary data from the count shows a population change in several core species
of local birds. ``The biggest change of course,'' he says, ``is the tremendous drop in the
number of Larisspecies (gulls - genus Larinae), particularly black-backed and herring
gulls.'' Normally the gulls make their way here from the coast and over-winter at the
Keene landfill, he explains where there is a large supply of smelly, messy food - just the
type they like. Unfortunately for the gulls however, as the landfill gears down in
preparation for closing, the pickings are slim and not many have hung around this year.
``We spotted 75 (individuals) this year,'' Ritz says. ``That's down from thousands in previous years.
Another surprise, Ritz says, is a decrease in the number of goldfinches and house finches.
``They should be a more common bird than has been seen,'' he says. ``It's gotten to the
point where when you see one at your feeder, it is a cause for celebration - they've gotten
so rare. They used to be so common that they were a big pain in the neck.''
On the plus side, Ritz points out, this year's mild weather has meant an increase in the
number of waterfowl that have remained in the area uncharacteristically late.
All of which is interesting and vaguely comforting. It's when you get outside of Keene that
the numbers turn sinister.
The other major Bird Count in the region this Christmas was centered in North
Peterborough and took in the towns, forests and lakes around Mount Monadnock.
According to volunteer bird-counter Francie Von Mertens, who was assigned to the Dublin
counting team, this year's sightings were both exciting and alarming. This year's warm
weather, she says, led to some rare sightings. ``You hope to get some of the summer birds
as well as the winter-breeding birds,'' she says. ``This year, there were bluebirds spotted in
Peterborough and more robins than we're used to seeing.'' She admits to being worried
that this might be a sign of climate-change, but says the sight of so many different species
in the area at this time of year was very exciting for a birder. ``It gets a little competitive
sometimes,'' she confesses.
The coup of the season however, was the sighting of several Bohemian waxwings - a
species that is normally not seen in this area. ``That had us doing high-5's'' Von Mertens
says.
To say that the Bohemian waxwings are a little out of their range is an understatement.
Their normal range is Alaska and Yukon, through to Saskatchewan. They might
occasionally be found as far south as Washington State or Montana. To see
them in New Hampshire is very, very unusual, and yet according to Brenda Sens, a
volunteer naturalist with the New Hampshire Audubon Society, the Bohemian waxwing
has been positively identified around the state in flocks of up to 150. ``This is really
something,'' she says. ``Normally, you only see species this far from their usual habitat in
times of severe weather or shortages of food.''
It's not easy to identify a Bohemian waxwing. You might suspect from their name that
they would be easy to spot from their black berets and clove cigarettes, but this isn't the
case. They are smallish grey and white birds that look very much like their cousins, the
cedar waxwings. They can only be told apart by a small colored patch under their wings
and by a difference in their songs. ``They are altos to the cedar waxwing's sopranos,''
explains Sens.
Robert Ritz cautions that it is very difficult to tell the difference between the two species.
``It is so difficult to differentiate between the two types of waxwing that a lot of counters
jump the gun and assume that they've seen a great number of the Bohemian waxwings
when they might actually be seeing the cedars,'' he warns.
Stan Senner, the executive director of the Alaskan state office of the Audubon Society says
that there is no shortage of Bohemian waxwings in his area. ``The first thing I can tell you
is that we have zillions (his exact word - `zillions') of them here. You may not have
our waxwings.''
Senner explains that waxwings are an irruptive species, meaning that they
flock in large numbers and migrate in mass movements, usually in response to food supply
issues. ``Don't make the mistake of associating mild weather and good food supplies,'' he
warns. ``You can have very mild years where the food supply is disrupted for one reason
or another. The food supplies here in Anchorage are very good this year, though.''
Senner recommends contacting the Cornell University Ornithology Lab in upstate New
York - the leading authority on North American songbirds.
A quick explanation to the secretary at Cornell's Ornithology Lab prompts a thoughtful
response. ``Hmmm. I'd better put you in touch with one of our biologists,'' she says. ``I'll
connect you with Ron Warble.''
[Ron Warble? A bird scientist's name is actually warble? As Kramer on
Seinfeld said once, ``That's like an ice cream-man named Cohen.'']
A voice comes on the other end of the line. ``Ron Rohrbaugh, here.''
This is a disappointment. His name isn't actually Warble?
``Lord! I only wish!'' he says with feeling. ``How can I help you today?''
He listens patiently to an explanation of the Bohemian waxwing situation and thinks
carefully for several moments before giving his professional opinion on the sudden influx
of Alaskan songbirds in New Hampshire.
``I have no idea,'' he says.
He explains that irruptive bird migrations are often tied to food or weather conditions, but
can be mysterious. ``We're experiencing a winter finch irruption on the East Coast right
now, for instance,'' he explains. (Ah, ha! Ritz's finches!) He also explains that ``summer''
birds like bluebirds and robins are actually present in New Hampshire year-round. ``They
certainly aren't present in the numbers you see in the spring and summer,'' he says, ``but
some generally hang around through the winter.''
So, this is the mysterious and sinister situation. We have a large influx of Bohemian
waxwings advancing into the region for no apparent reason, driving the native birds before
their advancing army. They are masters of disguise and have probably been breeding in
secret for years, building up their numbers for the invasion. They are supported by
numbers of over-wintering ``summer birds'' - sleeper agents, if you will - who are paving
the way for them. And all this is happening on the Eve of Y2K.
