Tag: citizen scientists

© Ellen Harasimowicz

Cornell University is a citizen science mecca of sorts. It is home not only to The Search for Lost Ladbugs Project, but also the world-reknowned Cornell Lab of Ornithology, whose mission is “to interpret and conserve the earth’s biological diversity through research, education, and citizen science focused on birds.” The Lab coordinates several critical citizen science projects, including FeederWatch, NestWatch, Great Backyard Bird Count, and others.

As if all that weren’t enough enticement, the Lab is nestled in the Sapsucker Woods Bird Sanctuary. (Yes, this place is as lovely as it sounds.) I spent part of yesterday there, interviewing Rick Bonney, who actually coined the phrase ‘citizen science’, and meeting several other folks who work behind the scenes on the citizen science projects I toot about here. (Including, by the way, Tim Gallagher, author of THE GRAIL BIRD. What a treat!)

It was a fabulous end to a fabulous research trip. I left the Lab with important new insights into citizen science, a cool new hat (see photo), and the mounting conviction that it is time, finally, to start writing this book. I have some loose ends to tie up, of course: notes to type, interviews to transcribe, and massive amounts of research to organize and review. But as Ellen and I emerged from the Sapsucker Woods and pointed the car toward home yesterday, my fingers were actually tingling.

(About the picture. I wouldn’t normally just plop a picture like this here on the old blog, but I asked Ellen to grab a picture of me outside the Johnson Center before we left the lab of Ornithology yesterday … and I am just so amazed at how well she captured the exact feelings of the moment. I was happy and relaxed about a day of important work, and wanted to soak up a bit of this special place. I think she totally got the shot. Can you see my fingers tingling?)

 

© Ellen Harasimowicz

Oi, what a ladybug hunt we had! Here’s the loose math: 27 intrepid ladybug spotters, 14 heavy-duty sweep nets, 7 buckets for sorting bugs, 5 scientists, 5 teachers, 1 hour, and … (cue the dramatic music, please) …

7 ladybug species!

The fourth-grade citizen scientists Ellen and I shadowed were amazingly dedicated field workers and didn’t let wet clover, threatening clouds, or sudden intense sunshine slow them down. They captured, photographed, and released 7-spotted, pink-spotted, polished, checker-spotted, glacial, Asian multi-colored, and three-banded ladybugs. Not bad for a day’s work.

Ellen and I are now back at our hotel. I am typing up notes like a madwoman. She is reviewing photos like a madwoman. We have decided we have the most perfect jobs ever…

 

© Loree Griffin Burns

Photographer Ellen Harasimowicz and I are in Ithaca, New York learning about The Lost Ladybug Project. Yesterday’s highlights included a visit to Dr. John Losey’s ladybug lab–complete with a peek in the aphid room–and a ladybug collecting trip.

Eric Denemark, a former student of Dr. Losey’s, brought Ellen and I to a nearby clover field and showed us how to sweep out ladybugs. That’s Eric up above, sharing ladybugs he found with Ellen. I got to try my hand at collecting too, but those rather funny images are on Ellen’s camera. Suffice to say that it is easy and enjoyable work, so long as you are okay with thigh-high clover fields and nets full of interesting creatures.

Ladybuggin’ tip of the day: when you are done sweeping, let your net sit open for a moment … that way bees and other stinging insects you may have swept IN can fly OUT. This is especially important if you plan to do this:

© Loree Griffin Burns

The weather here is threatening today’s plans, so please send sunny, ladybug friendly thoughts this way. If the rain holds off I’ll have more to share tomorrow.

 

On Sunday I closed out the Christmas Bird Count (CBC) season in Concord, Massachusetts. The twelve-hour bird-spotting, snowbank-climbing, species-tallying marathon was an event to remember, and one that will greatly inform the CBC chapter of my CITIZEN SCIENTISTS book.

I spent the day attached to a group of birders led by the extraordinary naturalist Peter Alden. If you don’t know him by name, you may recognize his books. I came home with a new, signed copy of this one:

As if watching Peter bird was not enough, I also got to chat with him over lunch. I could have listened to his stories—which featured heroes like Jane Goodall and E.O. Wilson—for days. Alas, there were birds to count.

Surprisingly, at least to me, a lot of our birding was done like this:

Because of the frigid temperatures and the large-ish geographical area in need of census, we often drove to a location, got out briefly to count birds, then hopped back in the car to record the numbers and zip on to the next location. As you can see in the photo above, we occasionally skipped the ”got out briefly” bit and simply counted birds from the car. It was an oddly effective approach.

Throughout the day I managed to spot three Life Birds (birds I have not yet seen in my life): snow goose (we saw a flock of sixteen, including several juveniles), pine siskin, and Carolina wren. I wanted to take pictures to share here you but, well, none of my Life Birds would pose. I did find some penguins that were more obliging:

One heron and an owl, too:

Lest you think I am totally incompetent, here are some live birds. Ten points if you can tell me what they are:

 

On December 14, I travelled to New York City to witness one of the oldest long-term wildlife monitoring projects in existence: the Central Park Christmas Bird Count. Although Christmas Bird Counts are held all over the country at this time of year, Central Park is one of only two locations (the other is in Princeton, New Jersey) that has hosted a CBC event for 109 years in a row.

As if that weren’t cool enough, while I was there I met a ninety-one year-old man who has been counting birds in Central Park for seventy-three years and an eight-year-old boy with four counts to his credit already. I met a teenager who digs the majesty of hawks and spotted a hawk with a fan club.* I saw passion. And intensity. And community.

I loved every second.

In fact, if I weren’t so busy typing up my notes and transcribing interview tapes and remembering sights and sounds from the day, I would be rubbing my hands together at the prospect of finding just the right words to share the wonder of it all with readers. But it is much too early for that. I’m attending another CBC event next weekend, and for now my job is to continue asking questions, recording answers, watching, and learning.

Here’s a photograph of a red-tailed hawk spotted at the NYC CBC count. The image was captured by Dr. David Krauss, a twenty-five year veteran of the Central Park CBC, an avid birder, and an excellent wildlife photographer.

So, if any of these recent bird posts have got you itching to count birds yourself, then consider these census events … both are open to birders of all levels:

Focus on Feeders
February 7-8, 2009 throughout Massachusetts;

Great Backyard Bird Count
February 13-15, 2009 throughout the country.

*If you don’t know which hawk I mean, use Google to search the words “Pale Male”. Better yet, do an Amazon search for the same words and then get yourself one of the THREE picture books recently written about this NYC resident. Oh, and you should know that it is highly unlikely that the hawk I saw was actually Pale Male; there are people who believe, however, that many of the red-tails hanging around Central Park are related to him. I like to think this was one of his younguns.

 

© Loree Griffin Burns

That’s photographer Ellen Harasimowicz at work in a milkweed meadow. Ellen joined me at two monarch butterfly tagging events this past week to record on film the wonder of citizen scientists at work.

Unlike my last tagging event, this weekend I was strictly an observer. I watched kids and adults—hip deep in goldenrod and with butterfly nets poised overhead—tiptoe toward nectaring butterflies. There were gasps of amazement (“Look at it eating!”), delight (“I got one!”), and awe (“Safe travels, butterfly!”). What a joy to sit back and watch these moments unfurl, to witness people connecting with nature in such a respectful way. These are the moments that excite me about citizen science and that inspired me to write this new book.

Oh, and then there are moments like this:

© Ellen Harasimowicz

That’s me, feeling pretty joyful.