Educational Musings

When I was an undergraduate, seeking my degree in Wildlife Management, I did not give much thought to environmental education, nor did I see myself filling the roll of educator in my career. Though I realized there was great value in environmental education, I felt that job was better served by those who had an inherent desire to teach, whereas my desires lay more in scientific inquiry and discovery. In the dozen or so years since I graduated, however, my work and personal experiences have proven me wrong in my earlier presumption. Environmental education is something I engage in on a daily basis and as my career goes on, I become more and more excited by the EE opportunities that present themselves to me as a wildlife biologist and ornithologist. 

I am a passionate conservationist and have dedicated my life to better understanding and fighting for the protection of wild things and wild places. Over the course of my career, I have come to the realization that these goals cannot be met without embracing environmental education.  I firmly believe that the vast majority of people do not care about things they do not understand. Conservation cannot be won by a minority. It must be won by the majority. Until the majority of people find value in the natural world, we will continue to fight an uphill battle in a world where the term "environmentalist" is treated as though it were a four-letter word. The role of environmental educators is to instill an understanding of and a sense of value for the natural world in adults and children alike, to ensure that we never live in a world where people wonder “What is the importance of a bird or of a tree? What is the benefit of undeveloped land? Why do I care if this place is lost? What significance does this species hold?”

We live in a society where each generation is more detached from the natural world than the last. In our concrete jungles, we can live out all of our days, never stopping to give a second thought to butterflies or where our food comes from. Farming, hunting, and fishing have given way to managing financial portfolios, flipping burgers, and playing video games. Even the words FARM, HUNT, FISH, have become dirty in our society among those who would rather buy their salad in a plastic bag and their meat under a piece of cellophane. Environmental educators serve to bring all people back to the natural world. So they can understand its intrinsic value to the mind and soul, and so they can learn the interconnectedness, the necessity, the scientific value in each thread of the food chain, each biological, chemical, and natural process. So they can learn that water doesn’t come from the tap and that one cannot simply throw something “away.”

I am a second semester graduate student in the Master of Natural Resources program at Utah State University also seeking the Natural Resources & Environmental Education Certificate. My objectives for seeking certification in Natural Resources and Environmental Education are varied. I desire to be a well-rounded individual with a diverse background of experiences and education. Better understanding this element of Natural Resources management will make me a more effective advocate and scientist. Moreover, however, my main motivation for wanting to learn how to be a better environmental educator is to broaden my tool chest when it comes to my current opportunities for educating the public on environmental topics. In short, it is to become a better teacher for myself and for those around me. In addition, I desire to seek out additional opportunities to do more of this essential work throughout the rest of my career. 

In a general sense, I define environmental education as the communication of information related to natural resource, natural history, environmental science, ecology and all other environmental disciplines to the general public. It is the bridge between scientists and non-scientists. Environmental education helps adults and children better understand and appreciate the world around them. It sparks the next generation of naturalists, scientists, and conservationists.

For me personally, environmental education is a way for me to pass on my passion for the natural world to those around me, in the hopes that they too will see its value and work to conserve it. I achieve this work in both a formal and informal manner as well as in classroom and field settings. Through prepared presentations to groups on environmental topics, scientific research, and ecological methods; leading groups out into the field to investigate the natural world; and answering questions for family members, friends, and coworkers who are investigating the natural world as part of their formal education or simply on a walk around the block. Nearly every moment of my day seems to be an appropriate one to reach a variety of people in a multitude of settings and to share my passion with them.

Taking one last look back before charging into the next year’s adventures…

2014 was an amazing birding year for me. I haven’t tallied the number of lifers that I got but the year included a portion of the Ecuador/Galapagos trip which spanned from the end of 2013 to the beginning of 2014; an epic trek through Chiapas, Mexico; another trip to Mexico, this time to Chihuahua and Sonora; and guiding trips to The Biggest Week in Northwestern Ohio and the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival in South Texas; plus everyday birding in New Mexico. My estimate is that I got close to 500 new birds. Yes, 5-0-0 NEW birds for my lifelist in 2014. Simply mind-blowing. In order of appearance during the year, here, I have selected 10 species that are my “Birds of the Year.” All of these, except for the last one were new for me. Each of them are not only incredible birds, they also have some extreme significance in terms of the sighting, the people I was with, the location, or all of the above! Without further ado:

Striped Owl- Larry, Steve, Nancy, and I, along with our guide Remy, found this bird, on an island in the Napo River in Eastern Ecuador on the second day of the new year. The bird flushed up from the ground, perched in the open, looked directly at us, and then disappeared into thick, tall, brush. Though Steve, Larry, and I all had cameras ready and in the hand, we were all so absolutely blown away by the encounter that none of us attempted a photograph. We just stared at it, slack-jawed. It was an absurdly stunning find, a beautiful bird, and a rare one at that for the area. 

Red-billed Tropicbird- I wrote a piece about finding a nest of this species on our first full day in the Galapagos. It is a species I had longed to see and the experience that I had with that bird is one that usually brings tears to my eyes when I recall how simply extraordinary it was. It is quite simply one of the most incredible and fortunate moments of my birding career and one that helps to define what was a mesmerizing week in the Galapagos Islands. 

Giant Conebill- This was the last bird we saw on our phenomenal trip to Ecuador and the Galapagos. Our group of four, plus Sam, spent a truly fantastic day birding the East Andes from the highs of Papallacta pass to… well… there were no lows. We had spent some time looking for this species earlier in the day without any luck and decided to try again on our way to the airport. The sun was low in the sky and light was fading. While Sam, Nance, and Steve went in one direction, Larry and I decided to check in the other direction. I was tired but determined and managed to track one down for our group to see. This bird is big and beautiful and mind-blowing which was exactly what our time in Ecuador had been. 

Pink-headed Warbler- This is the bird that sent Larry and me on an amazing trip to Chiapas, Mexico with Dave, Christopher, Mary, and others. This was also the trip on which Larry and I met David, Amy, and Jorge. The Chiapas trip was simply one of the greatest adventures I’ve ever been on. Finally seeing this bird, my “most wanted lifer” for many years was somewhat indescribable. And to add just a little bit of extra awesomesauce to the experience, we got the bird on day one of a two week trip. The rest was that frosty icing on the Pink-headed Warbler!  I still cannot believe a bird exists that is this “cute” and just plain charming. I certainly do hope that in this lifetime I get to know this species much better. My first experience with it is something I shall remember for the rest of my days. 

Horned Guan- We quested for this bird for a full day before finding it on our third day in El Triunfo. While quietly walking down the trail, I heard David whisper my name. I stopped and turned to see him gazing at a Horned Guan that was very, very close, very, very large, and perched on a horizontal branch staring us down. Ahead of us was half the group, walking away. I needed to get their attention without freaking the bird out. I let out a soft double-toot, which Mary picked up on. She turned toward me, I made a sign for “unicorn,” and she knew exactly what I meant. It was an exciting moment and we all got to see this glorious male! We found two more that morning; I was able to find the third one. This bird is simply mythical, bizarre, and unique. It. Was. Outrageous.

Fulvous Owl- There is something enchanting about owls and I have never met a birder who felt otherwise. The bird was calling during the late afternoon behind our dormitory at El Triunfo. The afternoon had brought low, thick clouds into the forest offering us a chance to see this bird through eerie fog and sort-of daylight. Donning tank top, shorts, and a pair of sandals (though it may be for some, this is NOT my usual birding garb), I dove under a barbed wire fence and raced up a slope to see this wonderful bird calling in the mist. It was pure magic. I sometimes get goosebumps while birding. Not often, but on occasion when my entire being is just overwhelmed by the moment. This was one of those moments. Beyond that, I cannot describe it. 

King Rail- When I’m out guiding, I don’t expect to get lifers. On a “big day” van trip for which I had very low expectations as a result of constant rain, I was totally floored when Gabriel spotted a couple of rails just outside the van in the ditch not 10 feet away. The young whipper snappers with cameras and I started blasting away at one of the birds and when they had both retreated into the reeds we were left with point-blank pictures of King Rail, many smiles, and a life bird for every person in the vehicle. It was a splendid moment and a superbly fun day spent birding with some very savvy young birders! Though that week was marked by so much kinship, love, and so many crazy-cool birds, this was the birding moment that took the cake. 

Thick-billed Parrot- This is another bird that, in my mind, was a legendary creature of pine forests. I knew I had to see one someday. Larry and I were lucky enough to spend another few days in Mexico birding with David, Raymond, Jorge, and Amy in August in order to seek this species and others. I can close my eyes and hear their laughter-like calls. They are stunning birds and almost certainly my favorite parrot I’ve ever seen in the wild. This is another species that elicited a piece of writing. 

Hook-billed Kite- For my close friends, this one needs little explanation. I have been skunked when seeking this species over many years and in many countries; almost to the point of it being comical if it hadn’t been so damn frustrating. I had come tantalizingly close on a number of occasions and had thrice shed tears over this creature but for some reason the former “Bird That Shall Not Be Named” refused to reveal itself to me. Until one lovely day at Bentsen State Park when Doug and I were leading a trip for the RGVBF when I was lucky enough to spot a pair of juvenile birds soaring. We watched them for several minutes and while Doug was making sure everyone else in the group was on the birds, I had perhaps the only selfish moment I have afforded myself while out guiding. I felt I had not just earned it, but battled for it. Finally! TICK!

Lewis’s Woodpecker- This is the only bird on the list that wasn’t a life bird. For anyone who has seen this pink and green woodpecker, however, you know how special this bird is. Though I’ve seen many over the years, Larry and I really hoped to find one for Lynn and Bruce when they were visiting New Mexico. After a remarkably epic day of birding a loop through the Jemez Mountains, which involved an early sighting of a Lewis’s Woodpecker that decided to fly “into oblivion” as Bruce put it, we decided to try one of Larry’s and my “old trusty” sites for this species. It seems a little weird perhaps, to just drive through this certain neighborhood in Espanola. But Larry and I have had success here in the past. It had been a few years since we last ventured here though, and so when we thought we had passed the neighborhood, I decided to turn down a random street to whirl about and get us back on track. But alas, birding is sometimes funny, and as I crept down that random 15mph street, a Lewis’s Woodpecker came flying directly toward and over my car. Before we even got out of the vehicle, Bruce and Lynn both had looks at the bird that only got better once out. It was an incredible way to cap off a beautiful day with friends. A day of luck and of laughter and of wonder.

It’s hard to sum up any year of birding with only ten species or sightings. This year was especially difficult for me since we crammed so many memorable adventures into our year. Ask me tomorrow and I might pick different species for my list (well, maybe some of them). 

For me, having a chance to relive some of those birds helps bring me back to specific places and times. It helps me remember how alive I felt when I was hiking through the Amazon, sweating out pints of fluid and how, just a week or so later, my body felt completely foreign to me when walking on the marshmallow world above the clouds at 14,100 feet in the Andes. I am transported back to a time when I stood alone in the forest at El Triunfo, watching Spotted Nightingale Thrushes chasing all around me, with nary a care to my presence. I remember sitting on the boardwalk at Magee Marsh, helping hundreds of people get looks at a female Golden-winged Warbler and later, helping scores get their lifer Henslow’s Sparrow. I remember the exact sensation of finally vanquishing the nemesis and only minutes later when my cell phone began exploding with congratulatory texts from friends, especially Martin and Marci, who knew the whole story. I remember hugs, I remember smiles, I remember high fives. 

And I’m ready to do it all again in 2015.

On Evening Grosbeak

On Evening Grosbeak

It’s not often that I remember my dreams. I suppose I haven’t spent much time cultivating that skill. In fact, I would say I have spent exactly no time attempting to cultivate that skill. Still, on rare occasion, I find myself waking up in a fog, attempting to piece together some incredible adventure that happened in dream world. I remember once being in a room with a closed door and an unhappy wolverine (are they ever happy, really?) waiting just outside. I opened the door, the wolverine rushed in, then I rushed out and quickly closed the door behind me. Perfect exchange and I was none the worse for the wear. Sometimes, I wake up with a racing heart after having had one of those crazy “I’m being chased” dreams. You know the type.

More often than not, my dreams revolve around birds though. This ought not be a surprise as I spend an inordinate amount of time with birds on the brain during my waking hours. I’ll not characterize it as excessive as I tend to think I spend just the right amount of time thinking about birds on a daily basis, whereas the average person spends far too little, in my opinion. But that is the topic of another piece.

Quite often, no actual birds (or as actual as a dream bird can be) appear in these bird-related dreams I have. For the most part, these dreams are situational. I’m someplace (often a forest or jungle) usually with people (the people I regularly bird with most often) and we are experiencing some typical birding-related phenomenon – searching for a bird, talking about a bird, silently scanning and listening, or something of the like. Fairly innocuous dreams they are, but comforting and sometimes funny, as are our adventures.

On rare occasion however, a bird makes an appearance in one of my birding dreams. And that is the manner in which I met my first Evening Grosbeak.

I presume I’m not unique, particularly among those of my generation and younger, in having had a bird guide before ever having seen an Evening Grosbeak. For we no longer live in a world where Evening Grosbeaks flourish in the manner and with the numbers they once had. Like many birders, I’ve spent hours poring over field guides of regions both here and yon, with wide-eyed enthusiasm over the possibility of someday setting eyes and glass on a few of the creatures described therein. The Evening Grosbeak was high on the list of birds I hoped to see from the moment I spied it in my first Peterson.

In my dream, I saw a brilliant male. Time and daylight has faded the fine details of my memory – those details that concern where I was and what the bird was doing, are lost. The Grosbeak however, was as perfect and crystal clear as any photograph I have seen before or since. Those details remain etched into my memory and accessible with a mere shut of the eyes. I’ve spent some time trying to explain how something could appear so perfect in a dream, something even that I’ve never actually seen, but I suppose any explanation may be inadequate. Besides, I think perhaps it needs no explanation. I expect perhaps it is part of the human condition to know and understand this sentiment.

When I awoke I was smiling. I had just gotten my lifer Evening Grosbeak. I had seen it with my own eyes in such glorious and mouthwatering detail that it didn’t really matter to me that it wasn’t “real.” I had experienced a moment with that bird. My heart beat fast and I tried to close my eyes and force myself back to that beautiful moment, but alas, it had flown out of my life forever.

Sometimes I get to wondering though. Might there be an Evening Grosbeak out there who dreamed he was seeing a human at that very instant? Could that magical dream-world we wander in and out of on a nightly basis be not a mere venue of hallucination? Might it instead be a place where energetic connections are made between both the animate and inanimate? Perhaps this is a foolish notion. Perhaps I, as a scientist, should not admit to having such seemingly irrational thoughts. Then again, perhaps irrational thoughts sometimes help push the boundaries of science and facilitate the expansion of our thoughts. Perhaps, somewhere out there, an unhappy wolverine awaits his revenge.

I have since gotten my lifer Evening Grosbeak in the awake-world. In fact, over the years I’ve had a good number of fantastic experiences and moments with flocks and pairs alike. From watching mid-summer fledglings to seeing spring migrants at my study site, counting groups for Christmas Bird Counts and everything in between. I can say with deep conviction that I adore that bird. It has a very special place in my heart. Perhaps it was the manner in which I got my lifer, or the detail with which I can recall that bird. Or maybe, it’s because it is the Evening Grosbeak.