10,000 Birds

5 Things Birders See Differently

Kai Pflug — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

6:00 a.m. To a birder: already late—the best light and most active period are already underway. To a non-birder: a time that should not normally involve consciousness. “Just a short walk” To a birder: a loosely defined field expedition that may or may not include return before noon. To a non-birder: a phrase that consistently fails to predict actual duration. Silence in nature To a birder: something to be interpreted—possibly promising, possibly suspicious. To a non-birder: the main attraction. “It’s just a sparrow” To a birder: an invitation to look again more carefully. To a non-birder: a correct classification that ends the discussion. Binoculars To a birder: standard equipment for making the world properly visible. To a non-birder: an object suggesting either espionage tendencies or excessive commitment to outdoor activities. Photo: House Sparrow

Demotivational Posters for Birds (XXXVII)

Kai Pflug — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Another four posters join our continuing series of avian demotivation. As always, the captions should not be interpreted as an accurate representation of the birds’ thoughts, assuming such a distinction can even be made.

Source

One Island, Ten Thousand Pelicans, and a Lake Running Out of Time

a Guest — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 11:27:55 +0000

By John Cavitt John Cavitt is a Distinguished Professor of Zoology at Weber State University in Ogden, Utah. For over two decades, his research has focused on the ecology and conservation of Great Salt Lake birds. He has tracked shorebirds from Utah to the coast of Mexico, banded birds in Siberia, and spent more field seasons than he can count watching a lake he loves grow smaller. He writes and speaks regularly on Great Salt Lake conservation and can be found on Instagram @birdecologyguy and LinkedIn at linkedin.com/in/johnfcavitt There are moments on the water in the American West that stop you cold regardless of what else you came to do. I have had that experience more than once, watching American White Pelicans (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) lift off the surface of freshwater impoundments surrounding Great Salt Lake (Figure 1). The birds run hard before becoming airborne, each one laboring briefly before those broad wings take hold. Once up, they circle to find lift, and when they locate a thermal, the transformation is immediate. The chaos of the takeoff settles into a long column of white birds tilting in unison, rising until the flock becomes a slow spiral. After more than two decades of fieldwork on this lake, that sight has not lost its hold on me. It is a striking display, but it masks a deeper reality. Despite this species’ massive size, these birds are vulnerable. Gunnison Island (Figure 2), a barren ridge of desert rock in the northern arm of Great Salt Lake, … … hosts what was for much of the past three decades the single largest American White Pelican breeding colony in the interior West (Figure 3). I know this firsthand from the years spent compiling the Atlas of Breeding Colonial Waterbirds in the Interior Western United States[1], a systematic survey of colonial waterbird colonies across eight states. In that work, we documented 41,709 breeding American White Pelicans at 24 colonies. Gunnison Island, with more than 10,000 birds in 2009, dwarfed every other colony. For most of its recorded history, it has stood in a category of its own. The written record reaches back to May 1850, when Captain Howard Stansbury of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers conducted the first scientific survey of Great Salt Lake. During this survey, he explored Gunnison Island, writing that the ground was literally “covered in eggs and young birds”. He described thousands of adults forming massive, unbroken white blankets across the rocky ridges. Stansbury’s account shows that this island served as a pelican colony for at least 175 years[2]. Pelicans have returned to it generation after generation. That colony is now in serious trouble. The reasons for its decline tell us a great deal about how saline ecosystems collapse and reveal some hard truths about society. The Crossing: Heavy Water and Vanishing Geography I visited Gunnison Island on July 23, 2014, as part of a pelican banding effort. We loaded onto two research boats that morning, unsure if the weather would cooperate. Winds had kicked up across the lake, and the crossing was uncertain. Boating on Great Salt Lake reveals a strange hydrology. The brine is heavy and dense, behaving by its own peculiar physics. Because the basin is so shallow, a stiff wind causes waves to stack into rapid, steep walls with almost no interval between them. Rather than riding over the chop, the boat’s hull plowed through dense barriers of brine, each wave slamming into the bow and forcing us to a crawl. On the way out, we passed the remnants of the old Lucin Cutoff trestle, the twelve-mile wooden railroad bridge completed in 1904 to shortcut the transcontinental route directly across the lake. Most of what remains today are scattered pilings and beams, encrusted so heavily in salt that they have effectively become concrete. (Figure 4, 4b) I couldn’t resist touching it. The surface was hard and completely mineralized, a bizarre artifact suspended somewhere between history and geology. As I reflect on that day and these pelicans, that petrified trestle is a monument to a time when humans thought they could permanently conquer the lake’s geography, but now frozen in place by an ecosystem that reclaims everything eventually. The loss of the lake’s water is doing the exact opposite to the pelicans. Rather than preserving the island’s geography, we are erasing it, converting a water-locked sanctuary into a terrestrial corridor for predators. We could not bring the boats close to the island without risking grounding them, so we hopped out and waded the last stretch through hip-deep salt water, holding our gear above our heads (Figure 5). Once ashore, we hiked to one of the island’s high points to locate the largest crèche of pre-fledgling pelicans we could find (Figure 6). Into the Crèche Young American White Pelicans present a deceptive picture. By mid-July, they are nearly adult-sized but still entirely dependent on their parents for food and completely incapable of flight. They congregate in crèches, dense aggregations of young birds waiting for their parents to return with a meal. Because they cannot fly, they are relatively easy to capture and band. What followed was as close to a military field operation as I have experienced in research. A team of drivers spread out wide around the back of the crèche while the rest of us quietly moved downslope to a narrow bottleneck in the terrain (Figure 7). We erected a large snow fence in a U-shape, its open mouth facing the approaching birds, and stationed ourselves at the ends, staying low and still. As we waited, I could feel the air changing. A heavy reek of concentrated uric acid and fish oil swept down the draw well before the first white bodies broke over the ridge. Hundreds of young pelicans waddled at maximum speed down the slope and funneled straight into the fence (Figure 8). Once they crossed the threshold, we pulled the ends together, securing roughly 250 to 300 birds in our makeshift corral (Figure...

Owl Babies!

Leslie Kinrys — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 11:00:12 +0000

Owl fledglings are some of the cutest young birds you can see. They look like piles of dryer lint with eyes. But, finding them is the challenge. First, their parents are secretive and hide their young very well. Secondly, people who find them want to protect them and are secretive about sharing locations.I was recently told about a family of Eastern Screech-Owl, living in a park. The person who shared this information with me knew I would act ethically and not post anything about the owl family until they had moved on, to protect them from being harassed by over-zealous birders and photographers.Eastern Screech-Owls are robin-sized, nocturnal hunters. They are common in eastern North America. They can be found in the suburbs and city parks. Most people are unaware that they are our neighbours. This family was in a city park, which provided roosting sites and lots of food. Eastern Screech-Owls eat large insects and small birds, but will also capture rodents, frogs, and other small creatures. Frequently, parents with hungry young will go after bigger prey. A few years back, I heard about a parent that brought a Northern Flicker to its brood.The family I saw this time was composed of the parents and four youngsters. They were all the grey morph, which is most common in Toronto. The four young were in one tree, with an adult near them. The other adult was perched in another tree nearby.While I was watching them, I could see the young moving around – stretching, grooming, and bothering each other. Both adults were asleep, because they were the ones working hard all night to feed those many mouths.I never get tired of seeing owl families and it is a thrill every time I encounter one. If you come across an owl family, remember to think of their safety first. One visit is enough to enjoy them and take your pictures. Don’t harass them to get flight shots, especially at night when they are hunting. Wait a few weeks until they have fledged before you report them to eBird or social media. This will help ensure there are more owls for people to enjoy in the future. Note: A photographer kindly shared the owl pictures above with me.

Ecotourism Destinations Protecting Vulnerable Bird Populations

Grace Waters — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

There’s nothing quite like spotting a rare bird in its native habitat. The colors seem more vivid and the call more resonant when you know you’re witnessing something precious and fleeting. Your travel choices hold real power to protect these experiences for future generations. Worldwide, visionary lodges and destinations prove that responsible tourism can safeguard wild bird populations from trafficking and habitat loss. A Two-Fold Success Story in Assam, India India’s Assam region stands as a conservation powerhouse, demonstrating that different approaches can achieve equally strong results. Here, a grassroots community movement and a responsible tourism enterprise work side by side to protect vulnerable bird populations. A Community Rallies for a Feared Stork Image via Unsplash The Greater Adjutant Stork once faced an uncertain future in Assam, where local communities viewed these massive birds as pests and unsanitary. However, 20,000 women from the women-led conservation movement the Hargila Army worked tirelessly to change how communities viewed the species. They built bamboo platforms for nesting, rescued injured birds and educated residents about the birds’ ecological importance. Its local populations have recovered from just 750 to over 1,800 because of the group’s efforts, proving that community engagement can reverse even steep declines. A Lodge Investing in People and Planet Diphlu River Lodge demonstrates how lodges can address the root causes of poaching and habitat destruction by investing in both wildlife and people. The operation commits 5% of every room booking to a foundation supporting environmental protection and community development, creating stable conditions for bird populations while giving local communities economic opportunities that don’t depend on exploitation. Creating Safe Havens in the Ecuadorian Andes Image via Unsplash Private reserves allow operators to take direct ownership of habitat protection and act swiftly against emerging threats. The San Jorge Eco-Lodge demonstrates this by owning and managing four private reserves in the Ecuadorian Andes. Together, these protected areas create a sanctuary for over 1,000 bird species. This structure allows for rapid response when illegal logging or poaching pressures increase. Lodge staff can immediately deploy protection measures without waiting for government bureaucracy, making private reserves particularly valuable for species facing urgent threats. Restoring Critical Nesting Ground in Alaska Image via Unsplash Some lodges go beyond protecting existing habitat to restore degraded areas. In Alaska, Ridgewood Wilderness Lodge shows how proactive habitat work enhances both conservation outcomes and birding experiences at a property adjacent to Kachemak Bay State Park. Lodge management has preserved native vegetation while reincorporating trees and shrubs for nesting birds throughout the property. These plantings provide vital habitat for species that have lost natural land to development elsewhere. Birders staying at Ridgewood can explore nature trails, book guided excursions, or watch from the deck as Bald Eagles, Common Ravens and shorebirds move through the restored landscape. The experience proves that luxury accommodations and serious conservation work can coexist beautifully. Why a Life in the Wild Matters for Birds Image via Unsplash Illegal wildlife traffickers devastate bird populations across multiple continents, and poachers remove millions of birds from their habitats each year in the Mediterranean, Arabian Peninsula, Northern and Central Europe and the Caucasus. The Eurasian Goldfinch vividly illustrates the crisis. This species has lost 56.7% of its range in the Western Maghreb due to extensive hunting and trading, and scarcity has driven prices to $50 per bird. That’s nearly a third of the average monthly income in the region, fueling illegal international trading networks. Beyond trafficking, captivity inflicts severe psychological damage on wild birds. Nearly 50% of caged birds pluck their own feathers due to stress, boredom and inadequate environments, a self-destructive behavior that rarely occurs in wild populations. This underscores why protecting natural habitats matters. The Urgent Need for True Conservation Tourism Forty-nine percent of migratory bird species covered by United Nations treaties are declining due to habitat loss, climate change and pollution. While many tourism operators claim environmental credentials without meaningful action, genuine conservation tourism accounts for less than 0.01% of the global tourism industry, making these destinations exceptionally rare. Light pollution from hotels and cities can make migration riskier and more confusing for species that navigate by celestial cues, proving that even well-intentioned development can harm birds. Choosing operators who minimize their environmental footprint matters more than ever for protecting migratory routes. How to Choose a Destination That Truly Makes a Difference Image via Unsplash In 2016, Alaska welcomed 300,000 birdwatchers who spent $378 million and supported nearly 4,000 jobs. Selecting responsible operators sends a clear signal that conservation-focused tourism deserves investment. Look for these markers when selecting your next birding destination: Direct habitat protection: Does the operator own, manage or financially support protected areas? Community partnerships: Are local communities employed and empowered by the operation? Transparent practices: Can you verify conservation claims through independent sources or certifications? Active restoration work: Does the operator invest in improving degraded habitat? Education programs: Do they teach visitors and locals about conservation challenges? Minimal environmental impact: Are they reducing light pollution, waste and carbon emissions? Before booking, request details about conservation funding, community employment and habitat protection measures. Legitimate operators will eagerly share this information rather than hiding behind vague claims. Protecting the Birds You Love, One Trip at a Time The challenges facing bird populations are substantial, but the solutions are tangible and proven. Every trip you plan offers an opportunity to support operators who put conservation first. Choose wisely, and your passion for birding becomes a powerful force protecting the species you love for generations to come.

Ask a Bird Guide: Which bird in your area is most overrated?

Editor — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

We sent out another list of questions to bird guides who have already been profiled on 10,000 Birds. In the seventh edition of this second series, we ask Which bird in your area is most overrated? Here are the answers. Nordmann’s Greenshank. Zhang Lin, China SA- the vultures. Not pretty and charismatic, but all of our African Vultures are endangered. They play such a crucial role in the ecosystem. Uganda- Bar-tailed Trogon. Once you have worked and seen one, they are stunning. Marc Cronje, East and Southern Africa In Extremadura, some people get very excited about Common Waxbills and Red Avadavats. They are introduced species that fail to excite me in any major way. David Lindo, Spain Scarlet Ibis. It’s an ibis. It’s red. Get over it. Faraaz Abdool, Trinidad & Tobago These days, Red Kite. People get so excited, but in reality, they’re all over the place. John Hague, UK The Andean Condor. Majestic, yes, but it overshadows equally fascinating species like the Black?chested Buzzard?Eagle. Tourists often fixate only on condors, missing subtler raptors soaring nearby. Marcelo Carlos De Cruzky, Argentina Green Hylia: One of the dull collared birds, but many clients want to see it. Kwame Brown, Ghana Shoebill stork. Magada Haily Miriam, Uganda Olive-tree Warbler, just because it is hard to get. Nothing exciting about its looks or song. Spyros Skareas, Greece None. Derek Lovich, Maine, USA The most overrated bird in my area is the Hyacinth Macaw, the largest parrot in the world! René Santos, Brazil The populations of magnificent frigatebirds are growing, but many people love to watch the males during courtship. Sandra Maria Plua Alban, Ecuador The Indian Paradise Flycatcher. They are everywhere. From the beach to the mountains. Savio Fonseca, India Rare visitors and escaped zoo birds. I’m not one of those people who drive all over Germany just to see, say, a Palla`s Leaf Warbler or an Eastern Imperial Eagle and tick them off my list (I don’t have a list – I’ll make one later at the retirement home). I prefer to travel to the countries where these birds (and the other native birds) actually live. Rolf Nessing, Germany The editor: The answers show that “overrated” is a very relative concept in birding. Some guides are unimpressed by birds that tourists obsess over simply because they are rare, huge, colorful, or difficult to find — whether that means condors, Shoebills, Scarlet Ibises, or birds that are suddenly everywhere after conservation success. Others roll their eyes at species whose main attraction seems to be “hard to tick.” Still, even the most dismissive comments usually come with an undertone of affection: birders may complain about the hype, but they still spend a remarkable amount of time talking about the birds anyway. Photo: Mandarin Duck, Nanhui, Shanghai, November 2017

Bird Guides of the World: Diego Cruz, Ecuador

Editor — Tue, 23 Jun 2026 11:00:00 +0000

What is your favorite bird species? Many, hard-to-answer, but the Andean Condor is one of them. Rainbow-bearded Thornbill What is your name, and where do you live? Diego Cruz, Quito Ecuador What are the main regions or locations you cover as a bird guide? Andes, Cloud Forest, Upper and Lower Amazon Basin, and Southern Ecuador How long have you been a bird guide? 15 years Green-and-gold Tanager How did you get into bird guiding? I love the landscapes of Ecuador, and from my early years as a child, I was always in contact with nature and wildlife. In 2013, the opportunity came to start my career in birding, first through guiding for another company and taking simple photos of birds. Each day is different in birding, which makes it perfect. A combination of wildlife, landscapes, meeting people, great meals, and hospitality led me to this birding passion. Spangled Coquette What are the aspects of being a bird guide that you like best? Which aspects do you dislike most? Meeting birders and experiences from all over the world, taking and finding the best photo of each species, travelling within Ecuador, and enjoying delicious Ecuadorian meals all over. Broad-billed Motmot What are the top 5-10 birds in your region that are the most interesting for visiting birders? Andean Condor Harpy Eagle Paradise Tanager Orange-breasted Fruiteater Fiery Topaz Velvet-purple Coronet Can you outline at least one typical birdwatching trip in your area? Please briefly describe the locations, the key birds, and the approximate duration of such a trip The picture below shows the recommended destinations of a 15-day Ecuador bird tour excluding the Galapagos. What other suggestions can you give to birders interested in your area? Depends if they are birders or photographers, but good binoculars are a must. Photography at least 200-600mm, f.56 is okay, but ideal will be f2.8 and f4. Tripod necessary for feeders or a monopod Spangled Cotinga If any readers of 10,000 Birds are interested in birding with you, how can they best contact you? +593 99 373 2879 , sales@ecuadorbirdstours.com

Some Urban Birds of Bislig, Mindanao, Philippines

Kai Pflug — Mon, 22 Jun 2026 10:50:19 +0000

One of the things I like about going on birding trips is that it tends to take you to places that are a little bit remote, a little bit undeveloped – places you would otherwise probably not go. Taking in the local scenery – if only while having a meal, because birding time is precious – can be interesting and enjoyable. And so it was in the town of Bislig on Mindanao, apparently the Easternmost town of the Philippines, with a central population of about 30,000. It has the hotel closest to the well-visited (by birders, at least) PICOP area – or in the words of my guide Irene, “every birder who goes to PICOP stays here”. And one day, after a somewhat frustrating day at PICOP, I had an hour of daylight right outside the hotel, never moving more than 50 meters away from it. And took photos of birds. My favorite: a pair of Philippine Pied Fantails, doing their fantail thing. This species is fun to watch – indeed, the birds are “very active; constantly on move when foraging” (HBW). And its presence just about 10 meters from the hotel entrance seemed to confirm the HBW statement on its conservation status: “Its need for only lightly wooded habitats places it at little risk.” The scientific name Rhipidura nigritorquis highlights the black collar of the species (niger: black, torquis: collar). And for those birders who care about such things, it is a Philippine endemic. Unlike the Grey-streaked Flycatcher, which I can also see in Shanghai during migration. Not that there is that much to see, I am afraid. I much prefer the similarly ordinary but somehow much quirkier Eurasian Tree Sparrow. Different from the US, it is a native species here … … and behaves much like one as well. The very small garden of the hotel is apparently the right habitat for the appropriately named Garden Sunbird. It seems to be more or less a Philippine endemic, give or take a few islands close to Borneo. Wood Swallows like this White-breasted Woodswallow to me indeed look a bit like they are made of Wood – this slightly lifeless look – though I am not sure their name is derived from that. This is almost more of an Australian than a Southeast Asian bird. It is a cooperative breeder – one paper describes a nest attended by 6 different adults. And they did not only share incubation but also cooperatively defended the nest from potential predators, and fed the nestlings. Possibly as a result, all four nestlings successfully fledged. Bird reference in an unpopular but good song, part 53. Today: “New Threats from the Soul“, Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band, with the lyrics I will never be (never be)Anything (anything)Other than a caged bird swinging from a chain swing, whistlin’ for my payseedPecking on a W9 Finally, I am pretty sure that for local birders, the Asian Glossy Starling is not an exciting bird at all, but I find the red eyes and the glossy bluish-blackish sheen of the plumage very attractive. Unfortunately, this does not apply to the juveniles, many of whom try not to be out in the open at daytime for exactly that reason. Interestingly, despite its wide distribution in Southeast Asia, the species is named after the Philippines (the panayensis in the scientific name Aplonis panayensis apparently is a corrupted form of the country name). Which leads us back to the country, and to the initial idea of seeing interesting places more or less by accident while birding. I will therefore end this post with some photos of the downtown area of Bislig. Wouldn’t mind just walking around there for a day or two, but then I would miss some birds, right?