From December 14 to January 5 every year - birders across the Western Hemisphere take one day to tally every bird they can find. It’s the Christmas Bird Count, the longest-running citizen science survey in the world.
pish pish pish pish
Will McDowell stood along the Bitterroot River west of Missoula. It’s a good spot for fishing, or for pishing.
“That’s a pishing sound, it causes some birds to get curious and come closer. It’s supposed to be a general imitation of, like a bird alarm call” McDowell said.
It was a gray morning, and cold, despite the lack of snow on the ground. I stood with McDowell and a group of four other birders participating in the Five Valleys Audubon Society's Missoula Christmas Bird Count.
Juggling my recorder and microphone with a pair of binoculars I scanned the riverbank and the trees.
“What was that? Did you hear that”
“A flicker”
In excited whispers we call out what we see and hear to keep track.
Bird call
“There’s the kingfisher!”
A Belted Kingfisher flies over us - breaking the stillness with its chattering call.
On average, around one hundred people participate across the Missoula valley, seeing over 80 species and anywhere from seven to eight thousand birds. Other birding groups in the state have until January 5 to conduct their day long counts.
Long-term datasets collected from these counts are an important tool for scientists to understand bird populations. Vicky Dreitz is a professor with the University of Montana’s Avian Science Center.
“We know that everything is always in flux and that it's changing. And I think what birds tell us is the ability to adapt to those changes at some level” said Dreitz.
Dreitz said birds are rapid responders meaning they can often indicate when something is awry earlier than other species, and provide important clues for what is happening across a broader ecosystem.
“I think they tell us things like how healthy the environment is, or how stable it might be over time.”
Towards the end of the Missoula count, we were rewarded with the rare sighting of a Northern Pygmy Owl, perched in such a way that wildlife photographer Don Jones could perfectly place his scope for a close up view.
“I always tell people who’ve never really seen one or are curious about them, I say it’s a tennis ball with a golf ball head and a feather stuck up its rear, " said Jones.
“They remind me of a snowman missing the top ball.”
