I know this is a morbid subject, but one that may be interesting. A friend of
mine recounted a story of a Pine Siskin that she had the privilege of seeing
expire. This is truly a strange story.

Although not a birder, my friend feeds birds and is familiar with the ones
that come into her yard. Usually they all fly away if she heads outside, but
on this day a Pine Siskin remained put. She knew all was not well. She went
over to the feeder to refill it, put out her finger, and the bird hopped onto
it! She refilled the feeder, talking to the bird the whole time (you have to
know her) and decided to show the bird to her husband. After a tour of the
house where the bird decided to inspect the lighting fixture at the top of
the stairwell, it was finally recollected (on its finger perch) and returned
to the Apple tree outside in an attempt to give it some cover as they have a
nice Sharp-shinned Hawk that makes the rounds occasionally. A little while
later it had moved to a platform feeder. It fell back, still upright but
using its tail as a support, shuddered a few times, spread its wings, drew
its head up and back to face the sky and expired. The bird remained in this
posture, facing the heavens as if to fly there, until they removed it from
the platform feeder. After this death performance, they felt that they could
do no less than dig a proper grave and bury the bird. It was raining at the
time (typical Oregon weather), but they did it anyway. Aside from the fact
that it is bad form to have dead birds hanging around your feeder decomposing
as it kind of puts a damper on future feeding observations. Anyone have any
comments or similar experiences? I'm not religious, but there must be
something out there bigger than us.......

Cindy Lawes cwlawes at aol.com
13380 SW Butner Rd.
Beaverton, OR 97005

==============

From: Bill Principe <principe at NETCOM.COM>

This is not the response you wanted, but here it is.
Birds die at a truly enormous rate. For example, it is estimated that about
2,000,000 birds die per DAY at the hands (or claws) of domestic cats.

Literally billions expire annually, as is the "plan" of nature. This
WORKS, and allows for species, not individuals, to survive.
The typical small passerine like a Pine Siskin has an average annual
mortality rate of around 50%. This means that HALF die per year.
Your friends sympathy was poorly placed. She saw a siskin die, and while
she painfully commiserated with this 12 gram bit of fluff, thousands of
its fellow siskins were dying undocumented and unmourned deaths, as
the ". . .something out there bigger than us. . ." has been allowing,
indeed allowing for, for millenia.

The biggest trap a birder can fall into is to worry about the lives of
individual birds. It is roughly like crying for each toenail as you clip
it, or bereaving the deaths of the hairs the barber clips from your
brow.

Many small birds are, in the language of population biologists, "r
strategists." What this means in a nutshell is that they breed as many of
themselves as they can, because most of them will die.
(Yes, some large birds such as condors are "K strategists." They are
rare, live long lives, and reproduce slowly. We CAN help their populations
by saving individual birds. But siskins are not K strategists.)

If you TRULY care about birds, then worrying about a siskin does nothing.
Instead, let me suggest:

. work with a local group to protect a habitat in your neighborhood.
. give your donations to groups like Conservation International that
have ongoing programs to protect habitat.
. write your congressman. Remind him how important habitat protection
is. Encourage him to pass legislation to protect ecosystems.
. mount a campaign to require cats to be kept indoors or on leashes.
We have leash laws for dogs; why not cats.
. work to ban the wholesale application of chemicals in agriculture.
Millions of birds and other animals die because of this.
. do any of a thousand constructive things you CAN do, as a concerned
birder and conservationist.

I know this note sounds snooty and snotty, but I am afraid that of all
the people who need education on environmental protection, birders are often
the worst. We allow our emotions to carry us away, when there is so
much good we could do. We spend untold dollars on bird rehabilitation,
which does virtually nothing, instead of habitat protection, which is
vitally needed.

I feed birds, too. But it is in my own selfish interest. I LIKE to see
them in my yard. I am fully aware that feeding birds does nothing to
help them survive. Instead, it may contribute to their demise by
conditioning them to an unnatural and unstable food source.
But I also work with conservation groups that do far more good than the
small harm I do by feeding them. And that do infinitely more good than
worrying about the death of a siskin.
Thank you for caring, Cindy. I mean that. But let's care in ways that
matter.

--
............... ..... ... ... . .. . . . . .
...... Bill Principe . . . . . . . . . . .
...... principe at netcom.com . . . . . . .
...... Pasadena, California . . . . . . . . .
.......... ....... ... . .. ... . . . . . .

==================

From: Mike Shipman <GRRSHIPM%IDBSU.BITNET at ARIZVM1.ccit.arizona.edu>

In response to Bill Principe's comment about the pine siskin let me add this:

I'm a biologist and know where your argument comes from. It is more important
and beneficial to care for the whole species rather than the plight of one
individual. That I would agree is a given.

However, there comes a time when we,as biologists or interested persons, see
something, witness something that is somewhat out of the ordinary. OK, let
me rephrase that.....something we don't see everyday. These events may involve
one individual or thousands, but they are so unsual, so weird, so extraordinary
so unexpected, that we have to say something about it. I believe this is the
case with the pine siskin story.

Also, biologists sometimes put off certain observations as trivial, something
we "take for granted" as being true or commonplace, while it might be
somewhat of an eye-opener to others. I find myself falling into that trap
more often than I like. People will relate a story and I will, not literally,
but figuratively, say "so what?" It happens to me as well when I relate an
observation to someone who has no interest in what I'm saying.

I guess what I'm getting at is that there shouldn't be such a gap between
"those who know" and the "layperson". It is our job to "find out and relate"
which means we do the work and tell everyone what we've found out. It does
conservation no good whatsoever if "those who know" tell "those who want to
know" that they don't need to know, or don't tell them at all.

I apologize if this appears to be a tirade against your reply, it's directed
to the whole scientific community in general.

Mike Shipman
Boise State University

=====================

From: CJ Bell <cjbell at SOLAR.RTD.UTK.EDU>

I to am work in the fild and teach Waterfowl Management and remote
sensing of the Envirorment but I enjoyed the story and will go out of my
way to save a bird if it comes to one of my many mountain feeders. I
thank her for sharing the story. C.J.

====================

From: Steve Hampton <hampton at GORDY.UCDAVIS.EDU>

Re: Bill Principe's reply. He makes some good points there at the
end, but, oh gee, in the words of Bob Seger, I feel like a number.

Surely it is the value, the intrinsic worth, of individuals (birds or
humans) that makes us care about the entire population.
So, my prayers go up for that poor Siskin in Oregon.

good birding,
____________________________________________________
STEVE HAMPTON [hampton at gordy.ucdavis.edu]
Dept. of Agricultural Economics
University of California, Davis
Davis, CA 95616 USA
____________________________________________________

======================

From: Laurie Larson <LLARSON%PUCC.BITNET at ARIZVM1.ccit.arizona.edu>

On Sun, 11 Dec 1994 13:40:35 -0800 Bill Principe said:
> If you TRULY care about birds, then worrying about a siskin does
nothing.

Bill, in terms of the big picture you're right on. But
to reach the understanding of the big picture, one often
starts small. I've known many people who got interested
in birds because of a moving or thrilling experience
with an individual bird. I don't know as many (any?) who got
started because of an intellectual principle. Perhaps
Cindy's friend, because of the Siskin, will start on the road
leading to working for habitat and species conservation.
But without understanding of her emotional experience
from a sympathetic listener that might be a bit less likely.

This is a principle well understood by many conservation
and education groups that build on that flash of curiosity
or awe to build more knowledge and environmental awareness.
(And here's to all the Nature Centers and naturalists
herding flocks of third-graders around the well-worn
nature trails, as well as the biologists in the labs and
banders and listers and artists and trip leaders and
fund-raisers. Each in their own way...)

--Laurie Larson .. llarson at pucc.princeton.edu .. Princeton, NJ

===================

From: "Gregory A. Swick" <gswick at OZARKS.SGCL.LIB.MO.US>

Recently Ted Eubanks, shorebird expert, newly elected NAS board member and
Houston Audubon Society member, sent this message to a list to which I belong.
I think it sheds light on the whole Siskin thread.

Greg Swick Greater Ozarks Audubon Society
Ozark Jr. High gswick at ozarks.sgcl.lib.mo.us
Ozark, MO 65721 (417) 581-2757
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Nov. 27, Ted Eubanks wrote:

Many years ago I banded shorebirds as part of a project to determine the
site usage of various tidal flats on the upper Texas coast. In addition to
the traditional banding protocol, I marked each individual with a unique set
of color bands and flags. For about a decade I monitored these individuals
as they migrated to and from these wintering and staging sites.

My reading of Susan's recent letter on the "clumping" of organisms triggered
a recollection of a particular Greater Yellowlegs that I captured and marked
in the early 1980's. Both species of yellowlegs are intolerant of maritime
(saline) habitats, yet a few Greaters will winter at sites such as San Luis
Pass where there is significant tidal exchange between Galveston Bay (with
its relative low salinity) and the Gulf of Mexico. This yellowlegs selected
San Luis Pass flats to winter, although during a typical survey we would
only find a few (less than five) of the same species.

For seven years this individual Greater Yellowlegs returned to San Luis
Pass. Remember, this bird nested somewhere in the Canadian tundra, and each
fall (late July) would wind its way south to Texas and San Luis Pass. Not
only did the yellowlegs spend each winter at San Luis, it (sex unknown)
selected the same tidal slough in which to feed. So not only did this wader
with a brain the size of a grape navigate its way to San Luis Pass, it was
able to relocate the same diminuative inlet (less than 100 meters in length)
for feeding.

In addition, this particular yellowlegs fed in a remarkable fashion. While most
yellowlegs (of both species) feed on invertebrates in the rice fields and
other freshwater habitats inland of the coast, "my" yellowlegs fished on
menhaden fry. This bird would thrash around in the slough and scare the fry
toward the end of the waterway. Trapped, the yellowlegs would carefully
snap each fish between its mandibles, and gobble each morsel down in a
rapid, flawless gulp. After a few fresh fry, the yellowlegs would settle
down in the deep sand bordering the flats to wait for its next hunger pangs.

My point? After marking several hundred shorebirds, and following a number
of these through their annual cycles, I finally developed the sensitivity to
recognize the individuality of each bird. Individual shorebirds cope with
the challenges of survival and reproduction in singularly unique fashions,
and this fantastic avain drama is played out daily in millions of different,
novel scenes. We humans simply lack the discriminitory skills to follow
each separate story line, except in the instances of organisms that we
resemble (humans of the same race) or that we exploit or enjoy (cattle,
dogs, cats).

Once we acknowledge the uniqueness of each individual (biological, genetic,
social, cultural), we endow that organism with a certain power and value
that the class as a whole may lack. For example, the Golden-cheeked Warbler
as a class is being viewed by most Texans in a theoretical or intellectal
rather than a personal or visceral sense. The endangered species debate
then becomes a war of experts, with the subject species, whose very
existence hangs in the balance, transmutated into charts, quotas, and HCP's.
The public only sees the lifeless, clinical representation of the bird (in
this case), and without an emotional attachment (or at least a bit of
empathy) is quick to subordinate its survival to their own, more immediate
needs.

A species is therefore easy to dismiss when personal sacrifice (jobs,
private rights) is requisite for its survival. For example, few can relate
to a snail darter, so the fish became a subject of ridicule and scorn (stop
the building of a dam for a fish?). However, most Americans feel a
patriotic or emotional bond with the Bald Eagle, and therefore support the
steps taken to ensure its survival.

this is not the "warm and fuzzies." I believe that we have regulated,
debated, deliberated, and intellectualized the fervor out of
environmentalism. In doing so, we have lost the imagination of the
public. Simply put, we are boring. Without a heart...a cause...a sincere
passion, we are simply another special interest group begging for the
attention of an increasingly apathetic and desensitized public. To act, the
citizenry must care. To care, the citizenry must feel. To feel, we must
capture their hearts, rather than bludgeon their minds.

Ted

=======================

From: "Gerhard R. Wittreich" <wittregr at MARLIN.SSNET.COM>

While I must admit that Bill Principe's reply is scientifically correct
I must side with Mike Shipman and Laurie Larson's responses. Mike makes a
great point when he says that it is important for us not to become so jaded
by all our experiences and knowledge as to lessen the value of this
observers comments. In line with Laurie's observation not only could this
be the seminal event that ultimately triggers this persons greater interest
in birds but our minimization of her observations could be the very event
that extinguishes that flame. One of the biggest uphill battles our
ornithological society faces when seeking new members is that beginers or
"less serious birders" are intimidated by the very response Bill gave...By
the way this is not aimed at Bill alone but at many of us including myself.
When birding with my wife she often reminds me of this when my impatience
shows as she lingers over a chickadee while I'm to busy looking for "good
birds". I see the pleasure she still takes in seeing a chickadee. While
it is certainly my loss if I can't find the same pleasure I once had in
these "lesser" observations but what message do we send to those that still
do..."You're not part of out group".

Cindy...Thank you and your friend for a very interesting observation. Don't
loose the pleasure these opportunities give you!

--Gerhard

----------------------
Gerhard R. Wittreich
wittregr at ssnet.com
Wilmington, Delaware
----------------------

=====================

From: Dalcio Dacol <dacol at I7140OO.NRL.NAVY.MIL>
Reply to: dacol at i7140a.nrl.navy.mil
To: Multiple recipients of list BIRDCHAT <BIRDCHAT at ARIZVM1.ccit.arizona.edu>
Subject: Re: Demise of a Pine Siskin

The observations about the agonizing siskin were fascinating.
I specially enjoyed the part where the observer determined,
from the dying siskin final movements, that this particular
bird was a monotheist who believed that its god inhabits
the heavens. Apparently there was not enough information
to determine whether it was a Christian and of which variety...


Dalcio Dacol
Washington, DC
dacol at abyss.nrl.navy.mil

=========================

From: Robert J G Dawson <dawsonrj at MCMAIL.CIS.MCMASTER.CA>

A few years ago, I was studying the roosting behaviour of gulls in
England. This involved long hours of observations, recorded on tape and
on paper, and frequently in uncomfortable positions on an unforgiving
substrate when it was rather chilly, to say the least. In these
situations where we have many opportunities to observe things we may not
necessarily pay attention to in the normal course of "birding", I retain
in particular the image of a Red-throated Diver/Loon that accompanied me
one morning.

A first-winter bird, it would be feeding just offshore from me at a
distance of maybe twenty feet, and the views I was treated to were quite
wonderful. In between the chores of the day, this was glorious respite.

At around 10 a.m., the bird went into convulsions and within 15 minutes
was dead. Now a lifeless form spreadeagled on the water's surface, it
drifted slowly to the opposite shore. Afterwards, one of the wardens
retrieved the bird. Even if we assume that this was an "unfit" individual,
and just another casualty of the environment, whether through pollution or
a poorly-adjusted physiology, there is still a certain attachment. In
death this bird was superb, plumage details and all. And, it has to be
noted, dead birds are the best way to study topography - I would
recommend to anyone that they sketch the next decent corpse they find (not
to suggest using Felix's natural skills for this purpose!).

The spiritual attachment which we feel towards nature is the driving force
for us wanting to conserve it. This particular individual now serves a
purpose through education, despite its lack of contribution to the gene
pool. Public awareness and appreciation is where we as people dedicated
to the conservation of birds and other animals, plants, etc, derive our
primary support. The legislative and political battles are based on this
foundation, in addition to information concerning life histories, ecology
and behaviour.

We have a common goal, though we may squabble indefinitely
over nomenclature or other such volatile issues, and agreed, we must put
over the reality of the big picture, putting an individual's death into
perspective. However, we cannot deny the importance and personal nature
of someone's observations, as opposed to the stringencies of scientific
sampling procedures. If no-one looked at anything, if no-one ever
ascended to that first "oh wow" stage of appreciation, then we wouldn't be
trying to protect things today.

Best to all,


Robert Dawson, Dept of Biology, McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario.