The joy of counting crows

LITTLE BIRD: A Northern Shrike

Fewer birds, more species, and a skilled community of birders mark the 2022 Christmas Bird Count

BY PIERRE GEOFFRAY

The 18th Powell River Christmas Bird Count took place on Saturday, December 17. At first light on that day, about 20 dedicated people of various aged and backgroundd, sharing a common and keen interest in birds and a curiosity about the local natural history, set out to track, identify and count every bird they encountered from dawn to dusk within a 20-kilometre circle centered in Westview.

With 88 species reported, this year had the biggest number of species for any local count in history, but well within the range of expectations. We previously had 87 species a couple of times and 86 another.

The numbers of birds have been gradually and spectacularly dropping around the globe and Powell River has not been exempt from that tragic trend the last few winters. Curiously enough, the number of species reported in the area has increased while the number of individuals has plummeted dramatically.

This might be due in part to a better coverage of the area by more skilled birders.

A Spotted Towhee

In other part, the erratic changes that affect bird populations probably mirror the random patterns of weather observed elsewhere globally. As an example of those changes, older locals might be familiar with the big group of Surf Scoters that used to winter in front of the Seawalk: their numbers went from 300 or 400 only 15 years ago to below 60 individuals in the last few winters.

This year, the number of Juncos was quite spectacular, as well as the numbers of crows with 450 individuals reported in one group near Brew Bay.

There was a surprising number of ‘unusual’ species reported during the count: one Tundra Swan and one late Yellow-rumped Warbler in Cranberry, one Gadwall in Brew Bay, one Eurasian Widgeon, one California Gull and one Northern Shrike at the Wildwood sewage pond, another Shrike and two Lincoln’s Sparrows at the Wildwood Bluffs, and three Ancient Murrelet at Tla’min. An American Goldfinch was spotted at the Old Golf Course with the first group of Siskins this winter, and two different White-throated Sparrows: an unusual species to be found in such numbers here.

There were relatively low numbers of finches as well and it was a bit of a surprise since the trees around the area are full of cones that should provide ample food supply for species notorious for their erratic opportunistic invasions when the food resources are plentiful.

Other common species, such as kinglets or chickadees, have diminished drastically compared with the high counts of 10 years ago.

Lincoln’s Sparrow

The CBC, which takes place every year around the same (December 15th) date allows us to check and compare numbers locally. It is not an exact science and it works better when studying trends on a larger scale like the whole of North America. But it is a window in time to be looked at cautiously, and if paired with local bird expertise, it can inform about the abundance of birds present in the middle of winter in one given area.

The causes of the global decline are complex and they certainly are not limited nor caused by our actions locally alone.

It should nevertheless be a reason for concern that our three main bird habitats in qathet are all currently under threat of development: the Wildwood Bluffs, (one of the last remnants of Coastal Douglas Fir Forest, privately owned ARL, where heavy equipment has been causing reckless destruction with no apparent reasons for four years), the Old Golf Course (thousands of sparrows used to winter there, very important stop for migration: waterfront sewage treatment plant), Brew Bay (one of only two estuaries in qathet, all estuaries are highly sensitive ecosystems crucial for bird and fish alike in one or many stages of their cycle).

Those areas are vital for the survival of birds, either as a wintering place sustaining important populations of birds coming to the mild climate of the coast during the cold weather, or as a staging place where migrants can safely stop on their way to and from their southern wintering grounds, or as a good habitat for so many of our breeders.

White-throated Sparrow

We all love having nature around. It is one of this region’s main attractions. It has drawn an increasing number of people to call Powell River home and it might paradoxically become the cause of destruction – unless there starts to be a willingness to protect some of the critical and endangered habitats that we are so used to taking for granted.

I have never felt the call to be nature’s advocate in the past, being more interested in witnessing and recording its beauties for myself. I must say I do not know where and how to start… I don’t even know if I am willing to give it a try.

It seems so daunting and it is so much easier to think myself powerless. What I know is, there is a new sadness that has come from watching nature vanish around us.

Going birding, the activity that brings me the most joy, has seen me sometimes coming home with a sense of dread and hopelessness.

But in the midst of the count, suddenly my eyes catch a movement within the foliage.

A Flicker, that most common of birds, flies away in an orange sunburst of colours. I follow it as it pumps through the air. Up, down, up, down with each stroke of its beautiful wings, calling it’s weird “Queer!” as if to me…

An amazing sight. A promise. I think of my new grand-daughter, six months old with a radiant smile. Certainly, some things are worth caring for.