Well....it happened....was bound to. The first bird walk of the season was April 7th. A bit on the cold side but 7 of us braved the weather. Actually wasn't that difficult unless you wanted the 'feel of your fingers'..... 

An Osprey collected sticks...a one stick fly-by....then another one stick fly-by, followed by a third. I think the sticks got bigger with each fly-by. Never did catch a glimpse of where the sticks went but they were 'over there' someplace, beyond the tree. 

But a few colors..., a couple of Purple Martins made their appearance a-top of the  visitor center. A glimpse of blue with an American Bluebird and BlueJay. Some Yellow-rumped Warblers and some Red-wing Blackbirds. Far off were some Green-winged Teals and some American Robins and some American Black Crows and  Brown-headed Cowbird...(well.....scan the complete color list under Bird Walk Results on the top menu)...

But a nice Caspian Tern on the hunt....a Northern Flicker going the other way, and speaking of an American Bittern in conversation, there was one....and 'oh my gosh', a Tri-colored Heron! 

The tap tap of a Red-bellied Woodpecker...the honks of a flock of Canada goose, the squeak of a Tit-mouse and the song of a Carolina Wren and the song(S) of a mockingbird. 

 Frozen fingers and senses....sights, colors and sounds. 

Are you ready now? Tap your heals three times now.... (Click Link in case your forgot about this)

So, the question still is, are you ready? What is your wish? To return home to Kansas or perhaps....yes perhaps....find a Cape May Warbler. Oo la la.... I haven't seen a Cape May Warbler and I must admit, that 'that' is on my wish list for 2018.

What is on yours? It doesn't have to be a huge thing. For instance, perhaps your wish is to find one bird or perhaps your wish is larger such as wishing to travel to the Everglades, or ?

My wish list....Cape May Warbler or the Cerulean Warbler. If I had my druthers, I would take the former as I have seen the latter in South America. But I would take both. I feel this year I want to venture to Delaware River Gap and hunt and seek. Deb's mom lives up in Allentown so it would be just a jump from there, right? Of course, that is the easy part, ....finding one......well, that is beyond my control. I will listen to the song, practice looking up at the top of trees for hours to develop my warbler neck....Will spend the winter practicing fast focus on the bins (1-2-3- go...focus)...   :-). Well, you know...

Now, I have always had a 'travel wish list' that corresponds with birds. Last year I spent time in Homer, Alaska (my 50th state) and appreciated the wind and cold and the Bering Sea. Years past, with youth instilled in my loins, I knew many of my friends who 'fished ' the Bering Sea earning money for college. But, did they take the time to witness the sea birds? I doubt it....so while I missed that opportunity in college, I hit upon it last year and didn't have to fish.

This year....two things. Texas in Feb or March....more specifically I want to see the Santa Ana Refuge before 'idiot-man' builds a wall thru it. Idiot man is an idiot without self-recognition of, as most idiots are. Idiot man exists but idiot man will not endure. Anyhow, I have a target of 21 birds I want to see in the Rio Grande area and feel I have a  great chance of seeing all 21 Texas / Mexico birds.....

My other 'wish' is to participate in the 'vomit' boat and see my pelagic birds. Yes, while in the Bering Sea I saw a few, but not like a pelagic adventure deep out to sea. But I am not as willing to vomit on the east coast as much as readily vomiting on the west coast. You see, it all has to do with the continental shelf. On the east coast, in order to do a proper pelagic trip, one has to vomit way out to sea...spend hours on the boat and having the pleasure of vomiting multiple hours and perhaps over the course of a few days as one leaves port, spends the night aboard the vomit vessel and then views birds the following day...way out at sea, all of this extended vomiting time is due to the distance of the continental shelf. 

While on the west coast, the shelf doesn't extend as far, thus limiting the exposure time to the routine of vomiting. I figure from Newport, Oregon in August or Sept would be prime time to vomit. I would leave port around 7 in the morning and face the seas to vomit.  But we would return 5-7 hours later, having more of a reprieve for 'one' who prefers less of a sea-leg adventure.

So.... Texas to view the refuge prior to the actions of idiot man, and Newport Oregon to vomit. Those are my wish list activities. Of course, the relatively benign trip to Delaware River Gap sandwiched in between.

Now....your wish list is? 

I moved around slightly this morning .....outside to catch a bit of air in the lee hours.  A light rain was falling on my deck, and early morning rain.

Capturing the mist that fell, I opened my arms and starred upwards towards the sky. No stars tonight, no clouds even,...just darkness in night which barely moved. The rain fell but not in clumps or dots or drops, but just mist...and 'fine' at that.

As I just allowed myself to experience this and think of just this, a small flutter next to me in a bush woke me to reality. A little bird of sorts, black...brown, ...not sure, but it was small. Perhaps a titmouse, a sparrow or the like. The mist must have pounded down upon the wings and crest. I wondered to myself....what would it be like to be here tonight in the shadows of nothing, to know that only 'something' is on me, ....For I, though here in much the same shadows knew of the early morning rain, but to this little guy in the bush, what was it? 

No one to cuddle with.....not even a blanket or plush animal to offer a resemblance of security. No others, although I can't believe it strayed here alone, were there to offer comfort. Much like those humans who came 'way before us' where they too must have been in awe of what 'was'....the days prior to science and knowledge. Not like this bird had no knowledge for yes, it did...it does. It knows where to find food in the whiteness of snow, or how to move over miles as it, along with many others navigate the world, or how it can crack a seed using only a beak, or can fly and dive and swoop or, how about how can it fly between a seemingly array of branches in a tree and pop out the other side unscathed? It has knowledge indeed, but not of this mist, this early morning rain.

I shrugged off my thoughts and moved back inside.... went back to bed. Deb asked me where I was and I thought and replied....nowhere, just out to view the darkness and to ponder nothing. 

Although a forfeiture of a visual, a gain in sound.... The Chickadee was one I heard just today. I ventured into the wind and braved my way to the car, ...just to get what was left behind, but, in doing so....I found a sound that rang well to my ears.
 
A lone chickadee...... someplace in the birch above. Hidden, ....clasped to a branch as the wind blew the leaves and most likely ruffled a feather. It chirped again and I looked once more. I made my way around the birch, with low hung branches and leaves still attached. The swaying caught the side of my face and I brushed to pull the tree away. I looked up, yet no chickadee....only the sound. 

Feeling a calling...I played seek and find, although I was limited to just 'seek'.... I moved back, yards away....and waited for the sound. Yes, over there on the top left, or is that center , or perhaps at ten? Not sure but it called once more. The gray clouds simply cloaked the maker of the sound as the starkness of the glare came down to me. While I jaunted around the tree like a child playing 'ring around the rosie', the Chickadee seemed to elude me, and  ignored my advancements. The song was a continued orchestratic aspect of nature that moved me as I just gave up and decided to concentrate on listening alone. 

Listen I did......until Deb called to me, breaking my zen. I looked up and repeated something to her, reminiscent of Charlie  Brown talk, as I now recall.... Yet, falling back to the birch and the tree and the Chickadee, it was now the bird who eluded me not just in vision but in sound too. I had lost the game. The chickadee had grown tired of 'seek and attempt to find' and I was left under the canopy of the birch, alone and at a loss for thought. 

I immediately realized it was a bit shy of being warm so I hustled back to the front door. Along the way I crooked my eyes to gain one last view of the tree but to no  avail. Yes, I had lost..... But I didn't really for my mind still embraced the call of the Chickadee, so as I ventured inside, I knew I won, I won....I was blessed today with the sound of the wild. 

What an odd fall......  no birds....no birds around my feeders. Like toy     shelves stocked for Christmas, with employees lying in wait, ...cash registers brimming with change---all in anticipation of meddling ones who will flock in to just gaze, or touch, or to take off the shelf and feel and drop, yes, so are my feeders. They lie in wait in the breeze, as I hear the wind blow thru the half-naked trees, a  gust pushing the chimes....a car swishing by....but still they lie in wait. The thistle is all 'thistled' to the top , yet nary a gold finch. Feeders plump with seed and not a lonesome dove. Suet sticking to the sides and perhaps, yes...perhaps...one little downy visiting now and then as if that is enough to quench my hunger for to view these flying creatures. 

I know.....I have read up on this...... too warm up north...too much food...feeders are not needed. Hey, isn't that a good thing? Yes, it is nice to know that we as humans are not 'that needed', although we like to believe we are. Most of the time we involve ourselves in the practice of destroying so when our services are rendered but not used, we feel a bit abused. But wait, Arnold had it right when he so eloquently stated, 'I will be back'..... So will the birds.

But a soft morning such as this, where your eyes naturally wander outside to see movement in the branches and ground, a sudden gasp of breath occurs as your mind skips a thought or two, it is a scary thing of what 'might be' more common than not. My grand kids are a 'few months to 5+', and I wonder....as an adult, as the years mitigate youth, as they sit here on a Sunday morning, will they be astonished by what is not, or....will they accept simply what is? 

Fifty years from now.....where will our birds be? Will our 'kind' during these years have saved wildlife or will we have made wildlife an anomaly of nature? Think of that, will wildlife be reduced to simply that of an anomaly? To go beyond birds,  will we have elephant heads on our walls to grandly display the power that man has conquered over a mere beast, or will we have an elephant in the wild to actually view and smell and sense it's power? Sitting on a plane the other day, I was chatting with my neighbor Arturo Izurieta, who is the director of the Charles Darwin Research Center in the Galapagos. We passed the time between late hours talking about the loss of large sharks in the Galapagos. Yet, it could have been anywhere. In future years will this anomaly of lacking wildlife be a permanent loss found within our birds and at our feeders? Will birds occasionally drop in to our feeders, as a grandparent does now, or will we have lost the same in large quantities due to our poisoning of the land or even a simple thing such as using 'lead in shot'....What will my Jonah, my James and my Amy view when they gain their years as easily as pounds? What will be your grandson's and daughters understanding of the same? What will be their anomaly in nature? Will it be nature itself, or perhaps it might be 'us' as humans....as our growing advancement in humanity appears to be steered to the lack of humanity, a loss of a race. We will become a blend of Artificial Intelligence and human.... We might have artificial hearts as well as mind as human organ creation moves ahead into a Brave New World. There will be those true 'humans' ....lost souls etched in the past, who remain one hundred percent human.....and abhor change to become this blend of human/chip. A human chip....an HC. No longer 100% human but a blend. But how much is a blend...80/20....50/50....20/80 and what about 0/100? Yet there they will sit, on the fence...watching humanity slowly shift towards an anomaly itself as these seemingly life forms of nature become a varied mix of chips and the like. As our earth evolves around our sun one too many times, even my grandkids in time, those who might elect to sit on the fence, hoping to remain human,....will die, as all living mass does. But their grandsons and daughters, my great or great great grandsons and daughters will gladly accept the only thing they know...whatever it might be at that time. For we only really accept what we know, right? Those who straddle the fence and between the posts, only last until their experiences fail to stretch to the deep and then, they vanish. A pure human will be an anomaly perhaps admired or lured to thought in history books alone.  So the 'fence' will be moved into a no-man's land and pushed past who we are as selves.

View your birds....sparsity or not....relish their simple movement and complex migration....they are not yet quite an anomaly.

Not a lot of time this past month to Bird or BLOG, even though it has been the start of Migration..... 

Why you ask? Can you say work....work....work? Do some of you recall  that evil term? Work...egads...work, Did you say work?

Work at times is equal to the brown paper bag that the drunk carries his bottle in...

Work at times is equal to sneaking a donut now and then...(did anyone see me eat that donut?)

Work...can be like the dentist without novacane.

Work can be like the tail end of a vacation when you are making the long trip home.

Work is like election night when your side lost....especially this time around. 

Work is like taking a whole roll of film with my camera and forgetting I put film in it. (Yes, I still use film at times).

Work is equal to a cat scratch that itches at 2 in the night.

Work is like that hiking in the woods with wet shoes.

Work is essentially unlike bird watching. But the above video does show a Saturday Bird walk as we hung out at Gull Tower...... no work there. 

Summer time....birding is usually a bit slow and actually at Forsythe, it isn't about birding but simply staying 'alive' my friend.....green heads. So this is usually a good time for a jaunt to cooler grounds.

Most summers I spend a month in the monsoon's of SE Arizona. The rain comes daily and cools all off and surprisingly 'greens' things up down here. SE Arizona is known for their birds so I can usually find something when down here.

I checked on E-bird and a 'find' was to be had. Just 15 km (down here between Tucson and Nogales, road signs are in km's), was a nesting pair of Rose Colored Becards....oo la la, I say....oo la la. 

Now, a Rose-throated Becard isn't 'brand new' to the states as it is a resident of Mexico and doesn't know about international boundaries, but looking on Ebird, it is the only Becard present in the states for 2017. Many years there are none, so this is truly a fine and just a jaunt down the road. 

Deb and I are going to be in that area anyhow doing  some antiquing and 'art stuff', and although it is 100 plus, the dryness makes it okay. I get information on the location of the bird and they say it is on the DeAnza Trail, three woods in (yeah, that is what it said...what? What is three woods?). .....   We find the DeAnza trail fairly easy and start hiking in the morning hours. Some cottonwoods and poplars trees are around but most Mesquite and Becards prefer the height of the poplars. We look....look....look...look and look some more. No Becard, no nest of the Becard either as they are usually 60-80 feet up in the air and dangling from the branches,....much like Oropendola's found in South America. It is getting a bit on the hot side, so we make it back to the Presidio State Park in Tubec and ask one of the workers. Usually when that happens we get the usual 'I don't know'....but this time they actually had a clue.

We are too far north...several km's..... I wonder if that has anything to do with the '3 woods'....? Anyhow, in the car we go and travel south a few km's to the Tumacacori Mission. This is a National Historic Site and has a ranger or two within. Perfect I am thinking... for rangers usually are 'up on the birds'. In we go and pay our 5$ as neither of us are old enough for a senior pass. ....  Shucks. I am too young!. It reminds me when I was 16 and went to the movies to see 'The Godfather'. I wasn't allowed in for I was too young as it had a R17 rating and back in  those days a youth of my age was too young to see anything good, unlike today. Anyhow, the ranger on duty just returned from vacation and had not heard about the Becard. But, luckily the one outside (during the solar eclipse, same day) is showing folks the eclipse outside so we trot on out to the main Mission Grounds to find her. Sure enough, she has the information. She says to take the main trail head on the DeAnza trail going 'north' form the mission, not south from the Presidio as we had been doing earlier. From there, the rangers have actually marked the spot, almost with an 'x', to show folks the nest of the Becard. Just stop at the sign, then look up....and find. Sounds easy.

Down the trail we go heading north.....stop at a smaller trailhead, veer left.....into the woods we go, and down a dried up river bed surrounded by poplars an cottonwoods ....   yet no sign, no Becard. The heat by now is getting to us as it has turned mid-day and no monsoons in sight. Time to 'bag it ' for the day, so  back to the ranger I go and ask 'what the heck?". She forgot to tell me which side of the river to go on and she proceeds to layout the location on a map. Perfect.....we can come back the following day.

​Following day......early....6:00 and the light of day just poking itself up in this area of AZ. Deb says, if she is up, she will go....but Deb isn't up, so I go alone. Hiking 'alone' in AZ isn't something I prefer to do but figure others will be around just in case I need it.

Down to Tubac and past the Presidio,....down to the mission and to the trailhead I go. DeAnza trailhead right in front of me. Off I go. I am supposed to (according to directions) take a grassy stomped-down trail to the left just on the east side of the run-off dried riverbed and to the west of the Santa Cruz River. Okay, sounds easy. Into the trail I go and veer to the left once more, alone. Now, here I am in desert of SE Arizona in the early morning hours and the sun is just poking up and warming things up, and hiking in shorts down a field of grass, stumps, woods and downed logs. Not a safe recipe. It was here last year that I found the biggest rattlesnake I have seen in my entire life, and yet here I am alone....bare legs...in the grass.....

I tread carefully but thump my feet on the ground to give off vibrations to push the snakes away. I head further in, all the time looking up and down...birds and snakes. Nothing..... I eventually come to an area where I cross the dry creek bed. Good..... nice.....  Crossing the dried creek I head further east and come to the sunny banks of the Santa Cruz, which actually has water in it at this time of the year. But again, alone....I am. From years of fishing with my dad in Oregon, Washington and California, I know that the sunny side of any river bank at any time of the day is a recipe for snakes as they warm themselves. Sure enough there is movement in the grass and one sneaks off. Bull snake, rattle snake? Not sure....I didn't chase it. 

But I am too far towards the Santa Cruz and start backtracking to the dry river bed. Along I walk heading north. ....Bingo....a sign. I look up and yes, bingo again...a nest hanging from the tree. I found it man, I found it. So I just park my butt there for awhile and along comes a spider, sort of speaking. Movement in the trees. Bins up.....eyes on....bingo, a male Becard. There is a female floating around someplace but all I see is the male. It took me 30 minutes of waiting for the Becard but eventually he found his way from 'up' as he appeared to me making his rounds of the trees, from south to north. 

Another birder shows up.....and together we try to find it. But to no avail as the bird has either called it quits for the day or is just making his way north and will eventually re-appear down here in 30 minutes or so. For me....I am done. It is getting hot and I have spied a 'lifer'....good enough for me. 

It took me two days and about 10 miles of hiking but bingo for bongo..... 

It is out.....July 6th....the ABA has announced their 2017 Check List Supplement and yes, there are some splits. Always so hard to see or be part of a break-up within a family but the ABA has their motives.....Now, when 'breaking up' (Written by Neil Sedaka) was sung by the Carpenters, it didn't seem so hard to do, but now, ...well....

So what does that mean for you, me...us..? 

Well, it could mean a new lifer for you. For instance, the Red Crossbill has been split up into the Red Crossbill and the Cassia Crossbill. If you have ever been to Burley, Idaho and on down to  Utah, you might be able to add a new bird to your list. Now, I have traveled that road often....and even 'applied' for a teaching job in Burley, Idaho in my 'youthier' days, but I know for a fact that I haven't seen a Crossbill of sorts in my travels on those roads. But perhaps you? If so, lucky you...a lifer now for you. How can you tell the difference? Well, the Cassia's song is more complex. Is that good enough? Well, how about the bill is shorter and thicker? That help? .....I have a feeling it might be tough to find a Cassia. 

So a question....if you came across the species image above, can you tell if this is a Red Crossbill or a Cassia Crossbill? I even gave you a few hints now:-) 

Fascinating 'read' on Crossbills in general....click here.

Or how about a 'loss' of a family member...? I am now one 'lifer down'...as the Thayer's Gull is now just a mere 'sub-species' of the Iceland Gull...Drats...minus one for me in 2017 but no, I am even since I found the Kirtland's Warbler in Michigan so I am even-steven...Yousers! 

Onwards to seek our more as I have a goal in Arizona now...the split of the Magnificent Hummingbird into two species; the Rivoli's and Talamanca. Now, I know I have seen at least one of those, maybe two down in Patagonia, Arizona and Madera Mountains but which one have I seen? No idea....it all depends on the throat color' turquoise or peridot-colored. Were you even aware that Peridot was color? 

Have you seen a Le Conte's...Thrasher or Sparrow? I haven't... but in in case you have, you are still okay, but now it is just one word---LeContes. Why? because it has now been unearthed that 19th century Entomologist John Lawrence LeConte spelled his name without a hyphen so, the ABA will follow. 

The Yellow-breasted Chat is no longer a Warbler...Now hear this, the Yellow-breasted Chat is not longer a Warbler...it is now a Chat. 

Oh...a new one for me, so I guess I am still 'up' for the year. The Yellow-eyed Junco is now two species, ....the Yellow-eyed and now the Baird's Junco. I believe Baird's used to be split but joined and are now split again. Baird's found in Baja, California Sur and Yellow-eyed are abundant around the Catalina Mountains of Tucson...so I can count that one....

Lots of genus changes, sequencing....way too many to be named. Why do they do this man? I don't use an electronic list or program anymore so it is not easy to now have to look at my 'printed' book (which I went back to a few years ago) and change or add or subtract or whatever. .....go figure. 

Hey, want to view the complete list? ...view here AOS Supplement 2017

The Kirtland's Warbler (photo  above from Cornell Lab).....now, as a birder, this has to be on your 'bucket list'...and if not, take a look and make plans. The only place to see the Kirtland's here in the states is in upper Michigan, more specifically in Hartwick Pines State Park. This warbler has an extremely narrow breeding range and breeds only in specific growth of Jack Pines whose age is between 5-20 years. Once the pines reach an elevation where the branches prevent light from penetrating to the ground below, the Warbler moves on to sunnier pastures. The Jack Pines habitat around this state park has been tailor-managed by a combination of agencies which compose the 'Kirtland's Warbler Initiative' and this has been going on since the 1970's. So "disco' was not the only thing that came from the 70's. Slowly the range has been expanded into Wisconsin and Ontario, as those states are attempting to lure this bird to their lands. During the 70's the male population declined to only 167 while today, the  total number of breeding birds is over 2,000, so a nice success story.

The exact spot of the breeding grounds is not public information and in order to view the Warbler you must contact either Hartwick Park State Park or the Michigan Audubon Society. Tours are led from the visitor center. That is exactly what Deb and I did together with my brother and sister-in-law who reside in Midland, Michigan about 80 miles south of the Warblers. 

Now upon our arrival, Michigan immediately became ensconced in one of the rainiest times of its history. Not just a 100 year rainstorm but a 500 year rainstorm.  And rain it did as the town of Midland was flooding and streets were closed. Our first of two days to see the Warbler was a complete rainout as we couldn't get there in time for the 7am tour, if they even had it.

Day 2....... nice weather. There were two tours scheduled on Saturday, one at 7am and one at 11am. Your natural inclination would be to take the 7am with Warblers but, we are dealing with the Kirtland's Warbler and they 'nest literally 'in' the ground' and perch on trees no taller than 6-7 feet. So we opted for sleep, and ventured to the 11am tour. When we arrived at the visitor center, we were greeted by a pair of Evening Grosbeaks...awesome birds with a yellow forehead and eyebrow. In our tour, there were a dozen of us led by Bryant, a young man from the Audubon who was working as our guide for the summer during his college years. He was good, and he knew how to lead a tour as he dotted our time with naturalistic facts concerning the floral and wildlife.

Into our cars and we caravanned to the Warbler location as we followed Bryant's red Jeep. Out of the car we got and the first thing we heard was a singing male Kirtland's. All eyes were immediately led to the low Jack Pines.... But only the voice, no visual. Down the path we went....scaring up a couple of Nashville Warblers and hearing the faint song of a Vesper's Sparrow. More Kirtland's singing in the pines, no visuals though. Down the path once more....and suddenly a nice call from no more than 5 yards from the path was heard. As a group, we were now strung out down the path 20 yards or so, but in my sights....kerchung!...Got it....The Kirtland's Warbler low in the branches singing away. But I was the only one who saw. I felt bad --but no, I felt good....I saw the Warbler :-)

Onwards down the path....a few more 'heards'... Then, on a small branch, posing for us....was a singing Kirtlands's. All eyes on the Warbler please. All eyes, except the two people who had camera's that is, as they were 'back up the path'. By the time they came to the Warbler, the moment had passed. The slice of life in time, the perfect pose, now gone.  "No Soup (picture) for you".

As we walked along the path, Deb nearly stepped upon this guy....probably 2-3 feet in length but actively showing itself.  A nice hog snake....look at that face for only a mother hog snake could love it. But a question that came to my mind was that if the Kirtland's creates their nests 'in the ground'....and although they might cover it up with grasses and be hidden within tall grass, it won't stop the heat  vision of this snake from stealing an egg or five. But, that is nature, right? According to the Audubon in Michigan, the Hogsnake is not one of the main predators of the Kirtland's so that was nice to know as we merrily pushed it further into the grass. 

Now, what perhaps is still nature but more of 'nature being out of control' is that of the cowbird and what 'used to be' the main predator of the Kirtland's. Not a predator in the usual sense, but along the lines of other nest parasite birds.  The cowbird, in the days of the Buffalo would follow the Buffalo and feed from the insects etc kicked up by the Buffalo herd. This behavior caused them to be a migratory species to survive; from herd to herd. The only way to assure that their young survived was to become parasitic in nature, and lay their eggs in other species nests. In the 1970's (yes the 70's again), research identified that  70% of all Kirtland's nests were being inhabited by at least one cowbird egg. The cowbird eggs hatched earlier than the warblers and are more aggressive for food. If two cowbird eggs hatched, then no warbler species survived. This is not a good thing for a low population species such as the Warbler. The Kirtland's Warbler became an endangered species. In 1973, the   Kirtland's Warbler Recovery Plan was enacted with a goal of having a population of 1,000. Thru efforts such as the control of Brown-headed Cowbirds by using these traps, (image) the percentage of cowbirds in a warbler nest is now only 3% with a warbler population well over 2,000. The cowbird is lured into this chicken wired trap with mullet and 3-4 Cowbirds are placed into the trap to lure other Cowbirds. At one time, there were upwards of 80 of these traps scattered throughout the Jack Pines. These are gradually being reduced as the Warbler population is growing. and once in, they can't get out. Today the Kirtland's Warbler Initiative is in effect as they monitor these traps, burning and replanting large tracks of Jack Pine. Together with the Michigan Audubon, these agencies support a non-profit to help the continued recovery of the warbler and other species. Truly a good cause.

In the days of today with our current administration blind to the environment, it is nice to see and know, that other agencies such as our local Audubon and those across the country, still carry on the fight to help our environment.....