How to Know the Birds: The Art and Adventure of Birding

Birdwatching. As in, you watch birds. It sounds so simple, so one-dimensional. But, as anyone who’s been doing it for a while will tell you, it is anything but. You will find that there is more than just watching; more, too, than identification. There’s no better introduction to what birding is about than How to Know the Birds: The Art and Adventure of Birding.

“How to Know the Birds is a storybook for bird lovers,” the author tells us. These stories come in the way of 200 single-page accounts, each dealing with a specific bird, each with a lesson. They are organized into six main sections, the accounts within each treating similar themes. These sections are labeled with months of the year – January-February, March-May, and so on – since the lessons correspond to that timeframe, either literally taking place during that time of year or metaphorically taking place in that season of a birder’s development. So the accounts are mostly independent, but not completely so, as some build upon the previous. Four chapters in the first section, for example, deal with bird names, which leads logically into splitting and lumping, which leads to other taxonomic concepts.

Floyd starts slowly with the basics, mostly dealing with identification: color, size, shape, variation, status and distribution, etc. New birders take note, these topics form the core of bird identification. Whole books have been written about some of these chapters, though, so you will have to look to other sources to expound upon these subjects. Experienced birders: you probably already know most of these things. Even so, there may be new things you discover in this section. But even if not, it is a quick, enjoyable read. And then we get to the section titled After the Spark, “when the real fun begins”.

As the book transitions away from identification, other biological concepts pop up, such as leapfrog migration and morning flight. In fact, I learned that my understanding of morning flight – the movement of migrants after sunrise – was incomplete. I thought it was essentially a repositioning to get to appropriate habitat. But Floyd reports that studies show that “On cold mornings, passerines actually expend less energy in full-on migratory flight than sitting around waiting for breakfast.” So it is more efficient for them to keep flying until their insect prey becomes active. I was also surprised to discover that Eared Grebes’ annual cycle includes up to five periods of flightlessness, such that “many adults are flightless for more than half the year.”

In following sections, he introduces the reader to activities normally undertaken at that time of year. In June-July, for instance, much of the discussion is on breeding bird atlasing and Breeding Bird Surveys.

The topics continue to slowly shift in character: “Bird study in the year’s second half challenges and delights us with a revised and richer philosophical outlook on things.” Molt, covered over several lessons, definitely falls on the challenging side. The many different activities that birders do, such as Big Days, Big Years, and chasing rarities, many find extremely delightful. But things are not all rosy. This book would be incomplete without examining the challenges birds face, mainly due to our species.

As the sections progressed, though, I kept waiting for it to get to more meaty, “philosophical” discussions. Finally, toward the end, it did so with discussions on ethics and even morality. After extensive discussions on the how and what of birding do we get to the why. Floyd’s answer to that is among the best I’ve heard: birds are “proclaiming that this world of ours is full of wonder and beauty, still exhorting us to go out and drink it all in.”

How to Know the Birds’ lessons not only inform, they make you think. Many end with a question mark. Some of these questions are asked because, well, we don’t know the answer. Others are rhetorical. Other chapters, while not explicitly asking questions, do provoke or encourage them. For example, Floyd’s straightforward claim that the “gleaming white” throat of a Brown Creeper reflects light onto prey items elicited in me a not-quite-dubious “really?” But after a moment’s reflection, that actually makes sense. I’d never stopped to question why a bird that tries so hard to blend in would have such a glaringly contrasting patch. What else about birds that I think I know haven’t I stopped to think about? This is an exciting aspect of birding that doesn’t get enough attention. Floyd sums it up nicely: “birding and nature study are less about the attainment of existing knowledge than about the quest for new knowledge.”

The short chapters are both welcome and frustrating. On the plus side, they encourage flexibility in how the reader engages with the book. It lends itself equally to being read in short, bite-sized chunks or in long sessions. On the down side, I found that the chapters often ended just when they were getting interesting. I wanted more! But then again, this fits in with the reflection and self-discovery that Floyd is promoting. He’s starting the conversation and then stepping out of the way, forcing the reader to reflect on the topic.

Recommendation

The mini lessons in How to Know the Birds: The Art and Adventure of Birding whet the appetite for the possibilities in birding. For newer, and maybe even some not-so-new, birders, this could be a real eye-opener. For them, this book should be required. For already-well-rounded birders there may not be enough here to warrant a purchase. But one thing is for sure, it will make all readers, regardless of experience, think.