Canning Food Parties

  • The jars are from a mildly more successful canning party than that described in our tale. If we can, you can, too. (Photo by Jennifer Szweda Jordan)

It’s harvest season – that time of year when farmers are selling cucumbers,
tomatoes and corn for cheap because there’s such bounty. So what do you do
with that kind of surplus? Jennifer Szweda Jordan followed one author’s
advice for preserving:

Transcript

It’s harvest season – that time of year when farmers are selling cucumbers,
tomatoes and corn for cheap because there’s such bounty. So what do you do
with that kind of surplus? Jennifer Szweda Jordan followed one author’s
advice for preserving:


Not long ago, I heard an interview with author Barbara Kingsolver about her
newest book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life.
Kingsolver and her family spent a year mostly eating foods they’d harvested
on their own or bought from local farms. The idea was to prove to herself
that her family could live well while cutting down the fuel used in food
transportation. In the interview, she mentioned that the family had canning
parties. Well, that was enough to inspire me.


I ordered a half-bushel of tomatoes from a local organic farmer and headed
to Ann Murray’s house. Ann’s a friend and co-worker whose family used to
can:


“I have to tell you what my father says of canning, he says: eat what you can, what
you can’t, can, and it’s so true.”


As a kid in rural West Virginia, Ann was the shucker of corn and the snipper
of beans. She never had a leading role at the pressure cooker – that tightly
sealed pot with the frightening capacity to explode if handled incorrectly.
Like me, the friends who joined us, Robin Hewlett and Matt Willard don’t
know much about canning either.


For canning instruction we turn to the 1964 edition of The Joy of Cooking.
Check out the language in this book: “Good organization and proper
equipment simplify canning and give you, with a minimum of effort, gay-
looking shelves of glistening, jewel-like jars… all labeled and dated and
ready to use.”


Matt recalls a similar book from his childhood:


“My mom had the Betty Crocker cookbook from like 1965 and they had like
explicit pictures of the process and I always found it really intriguing to read
through that ’cause I was like, I live in NYC, no one cans here. That was so
far from my mind. I’m thinking of some person in Wyoming on a farm like
actually still canning… But now it’s coming full circle, it’s great.”


Not many people think much about canning these days. But the process has
a rich history. Learning to preserve food this way actually helped Napoleon
win wars. Now canning has made its way into Ann Murray’s kitchen, where
we’re waiting for a pot of water to boil. We’ve scalded, and skinned our
tomatoes. Now we lay out our plan for organization that Joy of Cooking
promises will leave us with glistening jars:


(Sound of people talking while canning)


Anyway, what do we know? We try to get the right amount of tomatoes in
the jar – not too much so they’ll explode, but not so little that we’re mostly
packing water.


We submerge eight quarts into boiling water and wait what seems like a very
long 45 minutes. Ann throws us a bone to keep us going:


“They’re lookin’ beautiful, guys. Lookin like my mother’s cupboard.”


Since Ann’s the only one with actual canning memories, we’re all ears:


“I just remember it being really hot outside, incredibly hot, steamy in the kitchen. I felt like my mom was sacrificing a little so
we could have canned stuff. But it was always so great to open it up in the
middle of the winter.”


At the end of six hours, we only have 12 quarts of tomato jars to show for it.
I’m a little disappointed because I wish we could’ve been more efficient. I
mean, it’s a good thing we’re not in the French military, right, because we, like,
seriously couldn’t survive on this:


(Hewlett:) ” I feel like the sitting around and the canning is part of the social canning party
aspect.”


They eventually had me convinced that we were productive enough. Until I
did some searches on the internet about canning parties. In a 1918 book
called Use Your Government: What Your Government Does For
You
, there are tables listing teams of Kansas canners and their output.
If I read correctly, Mrs. P.W. Rieger, aided by 17-year-old Bernadette
Rieger, canned 622 and one half quarts of fruit, vegetables, soups and meats.


Wow, I wonder if I’m too old to join 4-H?


For The Environment Report, this is Jennifer Szweda Jordan.

Related Links

Housing Developers Go Native

  • Views like this attract new housing developments around the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. (Photo courtesty of the National Park Service.)

In recent years, the land surrounding America’s national parks has become attractive to residential developers. But the landscaping in these new neighborhoods can often feature aggressive, exotic plants, many of which threaten to choke out native plants. Now, a new program aims to keep these plants from sneaking their way into the nation’s most-visited park. As Matt Shafer Powell reports, the program depends upon an uncommon alliance of environmentalists and developers:

Transcript

In recent years, the land surrounding America’s national parks has become attractive to residential developers. But the landscaping in these new neighborhoods can often feature aggressive, exotic plants, many of which threaten to choke out native plants. Now, a new program aims to keep these plants from sneaking their way into the nation’s most-visited park. As Matt Shafer Powell reports, the program depends upon an uncommon alliance of environmentalists and developers:


Jason Love is standing next to a wall of roadside rock. He’s watching as the mimosa trees anchored in the rock wave in the wind from a passing stream of cars. The cars are all headed to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, only a few miles down the road. These days, he says the mimosas are a predictable part of the landscape for those visitors heading into the park.


“The mimosa was probably planted as an ornamental and from there, was spread by birds eating the seeds, and now, instead of just being in one place in one person’s yard, you can see it up and down the roadside here.”


Love is an ecologist with the Great Smoky Mountains Institute at Tremont. It’s an environmental education group that works with the Park Service. Love admits the mimosas are beautiful trees, with their brilliant spray of pink and white flowers and their strong perfume-like scent. His problem with them is that they’re killing off some of the plants that have called the Smokies home for thousands of years.


“We see more and more of these invasive exotics creeping up along the park’s edges and that makes it harder to control inside the park because just as birds brought this mimosa here beside us, these same birds go inside the park and carry these same seeds and then the park has to actively deal with it.”


And the park does deal with it the best it can. Each year, the Park Service spends a lot of money and time monitoring the plants inside the park and yanking out any invasives. The question is why, especially if the mimosas are so appealing. Back at the Tremont Institute, Love has a simple answer.


“We love this environment. This is the Smoky Mountains. It has over 130 species of trees, more than all of Europe. And when we bring in these invasive exotic plants, we are lessening that diversity, we’re making it a little less special.”


With new neighborhoods full of exotic invasives creeping toward the park, the park service and the Tremont institute decided the best way to address the problem was by educating developers. So they created a pilot program called the Native Landscape Certification Program. It’s a voluntary program where residential developers like Robin Turner promise to use only native plants in their landscaping schemes. Turner is currently developing a neighborhood on more than seven hundred wooded acres next to the park.


“That’s really why we’re all here. We’re here because of the beauty of this place, I mean we can pick anywhere in the country to live and we’ve picked this region because of the park and because of the National Forest and because of what’s here.”


Turner is sitting on the back porch of his sales office, a refurbished one room schoolhouse that stands only a few feet from a creek that dribbles through the development. He says he wants his exclusive – and expensive – development to blend in seamlessly with the natural landscape of the park. But he says it also has to make financial sense.


“It’s the right thing to do and it’s excellent business. I mean, we will make a very nice living doing this. I think our sales are higher and we’re getting higher prices because of what we’re doing.”


Ultimately, that’s what will determine the success or failure of such agreements. Meredith Clebsch runs an East Tennessee nursery that specializes in native plants.


“It comes down to money with them. Most of the time, they’re not going to be environmentalists like some of us might be, so they’re going to have to have a reason that it’s going to be beneficial to their pocketbook and you know, their customers have to want it.”


For the folks at the Great Smoky Mountains Institute at Tremont, this idea of ecologists and developers reading from the same page takes a little getting used to. Ken Vorhis is the Executive Director of the Tremont Institute. He says he often has some explaining to do to his environmentally conscious friends.


“Some people say, ‘Oh, you’re joining up with the developers, aren’t you? Going over to the dark side?’ And we’re saying “No, these people want to do it right. There are going to be developments, we need economic development, those kinds of things, but can we do it in a way that makes more sense, that’s sustainable, a way that is environmentally friendly.”


Voorhis admits that the Native Landscape Certification Program isn’t going to resolve all of the friction between the forces of development and natural preservation. But he says it may be an important first step.


For the Environment Report, I’m Matt Shafer Powell.

Related Links

Searching for E-Waste Solutions

  • Many people do not know what to do with old computers and equipment, so they end up in the trash.

If you bought a new computer over the holidays, there are plenty of places to drop off your household’s old computer. But to prevent more of the old monitors, laptops and other items from winding up in landfills, some Midwest states are looking to make sure computer makers get involved in recycling their products. One of the few manufacturers that already helps re-use old computer parts is Texas-based Dell, Incorporated. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chuck Quirmbach went to a Dell-sponsored recycling center and has this
report:

Transcript

If you bought a new computer over the holidays, there are plenty of
places to drop off your household’s old computer, but to prevent more
of the old monitors, laptops and other items from winding up in
landfills, some Midwest states are looking to make sure computer
makers get involved in recycling their products. One of the few
manufacturers that already helps re-use old computer parts is
Texas-based Dell, Incorporated. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s
Chuck Quirmbach went to a Dell-sponsored recycling center and has this
report:


About a year ago, Dell helped set up and publicize a computer
recycling plant at a Goodwill Industries facility in Dell’s home city
of Austin.


(Sound of clunking)


Goodwill employees and volunteers sort through the hundreds of
boxes of computers and computer parts that are dropped off – at no
charge to the consumer – at the site. Newer computers are set aside
for repairs, and hard drive memories are erased. Older computers go
to a bench where workers like Paul take apart (or demanufacture)
them.


“I’m taking apart all the useable parts. Motherboard, power sources,
cards, ports, metal goes into bins, plastic goes into bins for
recycling and what not.”


(Sound of ambience switch)


Goodwill sells the reusable parts at its retail store elsewhere in the
building. Used LCD monitors, for example, go for as low as twenty
dollars.


Manager Christine Banks says some of the equipment is under
a 30-day Goodwill warranty. Other parts can be exchanged if the
customer isn’t satisfied. Banks says Goodwill is happy this computer-
recycling program makes a profit.


“Our operation does. However, there are 7 or 8 other Goodwills
throughout the country that do this that barely break even. We’re just
fortunate we have higher tech donations, a pool of employees with
more technology, it’s very tricky.”


Some states charge high disposal costs for unwanted computer parts,
which can contain potentially harmful chemicals. Those high costs can
make it difficult for a recycling program to get off the ground, but
environmental groups say the fast-growing pile of circuit boards,
monitors, and plastic parts can leach poisons like lead, mercury, and
cadmium into the environment.


They say small-scale projects like the one in Austin have to be part of a
broader effort to keep electronic waste out of the nation’s landfills. That
effort could include government mandates forcing manufacturers to
safely dispose of old products.


Robin Schneider is with the Austin office of the National Computer
Takeback Campaign.


“So, to really deal with the environmental problems of millions of
pounds of toxins, we’re gonna need something bigger than this. This is a
piece of it…and gonna need lot of pieces of it.”


Schneider says she’s encouraged that some Midwest states are
looking into manufacturer takeback programs. She acknowledges that
recycling may drive up the cost of new computers, but she also says
manufacturers may start redesigning computers so that it’s more
profitable for the companies to take them back.


For the GLRC, I’m Chuck Quirmbach.

Related Links

A Rare Visit From a Northern Neighbor

  • The Great Gray Owl is a rare sighting south of the U.S.-Canadian border. (Photo by Matt Victoria, Camillus, NY. www.fickity.net)

The Great Gray Owl usually lives deep in the northern forests of Canada. But due to scarce food, thousands of the big owls have drifted south. They’ve drifted into southern Ontario and Quebec, even crossing the border into Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan. Last month, a Great Gray was spotted in New York, the first one documented there in almost a decade. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s David Sommerstein was there when it
happened:

Transcript

The Great Gray Owl usually lives deep in the northern forests of Canada. But due to scarce food,
thousands of the big owls have drifted south. They’ve drifted into southern Ontario and Quebec,
even crossing the border into Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan. Last month, a Great Gray
was spotted in New York, the first one documented there in almost a decade. The Great Lakes
Radio Consortium’s David Sommerstein was there when it happened:


Ornithologist Gerry Smith had invited me to see some of the best raptor habitat in northern New
York. We took off in his cluttered Saturn wagon.


“Here we go!…” (sound of engine turning on)


Gerry wears a beat up canvas hat, green sweatshirt, and always has one hand on his binoculars.
He started birdwatching when he was 13 as a sort of therapy.


“My father passed away when I was 15, but he was terminally ill, and I needed an escape, you
know, obviously as a 13 year-old kid I didn’t know that, but I got hooked, and the rest, as they
say, is history.”


More than 40 years later, he’s never had a job not related to birds. And he’s in his element
cruising the back roads of Upstate New York.


These farm fields are near the St. Lawrence River. They’re ideal for hawks and owls. They’re
grassy with occasional tree stands. And they don’t get as much snow as other parts of the state.
So birds can snag the mice and voles they live on all winter long.


In no time, Gerry’s spotting raptors. There’s a hawk perched in a twisted elm…


“Yep, it’s a Red-tailed Hawk and I think it’s got prey because it’s bending down like it’s eating.”


A rough-legged hawk soars above us, black and white plumage glowing in the sun.


“The bird was just lofting along.”


A Short-eared Owl glides past a farmhouse.


“Look how that is flying. It’s flying like a big fruit bat. Cutting left across the hay bales, coming
toward the house, above the house now, and drifting left.”


Smith’s also seen a snowy owl this year. But still no sign of the Great Gray owl.


The Great Gray usually lives in the far northern forests of Canada. But this year it has flown
south to the upper Great Lakes region by the thousands. Conservation biologist Jim Duncan is a
Great Gray Owl expert with the province of Manitoba. He says the phenomenon happens
cyclically, when the Great Gray’s main food source – the meadow vole – becomes scarce.


“It’s a regular migration. It’s like a robin migrating in response to food availability, except in the
case of the Great Gray Owl, it’s a longer period of time. It’s three to five years.”


Gerry Smith’s still waiting for the Great Gray in New York. It’s been spotted just across the St.
Lawrence River in Canada.


“There’s a single Great Gray Owl on Amherst Island, but not one, as far as we know, has made it
into northern New York despite the fact that a whole lot of us have been looking.”


Now, I know you’re going to call that easy foreshadowing. But believe it or not, just an hour
later, Gerry pulls the car over, grabs his binoculars, and peers at something big perched on a tree.


“We have the first Great Gray Owl that’s made it across the border. I’ll be a son of a gun. That is
so…Now I’m very enthusiastic. Hey, I’m gonna set up my scope.”


While Gerry unpacks the telescope, a raven flies to a branch just above the owl and tries to scare
it away. Birders call it “mobbing.”


“Now don’t you mob that owl, you fiend. I think that’s what he’s thinking of doing. Watch this.”


The owl holds its ground, and Gerry gets it in the telescope’s sights.


“That is so cool. It’s not facing us, it’s back is to us, but take a look, that shape is very
distinctive.”


It’s slate gray with some brown and white, round head, stocky body, as big or bigger than the
raven.


“This has been…oh, the owl just hooted. It’s a very low guttural hoot, something like a horned
owl, only deeper.”


Just then, the owl’s finally had enough. It takes flight and drifts slow and low to a stand of trees,
likely its roost. Gerry jots down the GPS coordinates and we get back in the car.


“Well, sir, we’ll finish the route and head back, but we have had undoubtedly the high point of
the day. That’s the high point of my winter.”


This Great Gray Owl migration is the biggest on record. Biologist Jim Duncan says it’s a chance
for all eager birders to help science.


“People have a real opportunity to contribute to our knowledge of the species, be they farmers,
housewives, commuters. They don’t have to be scientists.”


You do have to be respectful, though, if you want to report Great Gray sightings to wildlife
officials. Stay off private land, don’t make noise, and keep your distance. And enjoy a rare
opportunity to see a Great Gray visitor from the North.


For the GLRC, I’m David Sommerstein.

Related Links

Birders’ Passion Helps Scientists

  • The costs of hiring biologists to do a bird count across the U.S. would be astronomical. (photo by Deo Koe)

Every year, tens of thousands of avid birdwatchers wander through frozen fields and marshy swamps. Their job is to record as many birds as they can find in a given area. For birders, it’s a day to enjoy the outdoors while doing what they love most. But as the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Karen Kelly reports, that passion serves another purpose – it helps scientists:

Transcript

Every year, tens of thousands of avid birdwatchers wander through
frozen fields and marshy swamps. Their job is to record as many birds
as they can find in a given area. For birders, it’s a day to enjoy the outdoors
while doing what they love most. But as the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s
Karen Kelly reports, that passion serves another purpose – it helps scientists:


(sound of footsteps)


Georgina Doe: “There’s five robins right there and there’s three common mergansers,
males…”


Georgina Doe scans the shoreline with her binoculars. Within seconds,
she spots a tiny glimpse of a bird and names it.


She knows them by the way they dive in the air, and the way they thrust
their chests out.


Doe has been scanning the treetops of Carleton Place, Ontario for
more than 30 years. She says she loves the chase and the element of surprise.
And over the years, birding has also been her escape.


She remembers watching a robin build its nest when her grandson
was seriously ill.


“So I used to count the birds every morning before I went off to
the hospital. And then after that, you come back to reality. Somehow a
little bird can just make you feel better.”


Birds have been a part of all of our lives. We might not know their names.
But we can remember holding a baby chick. Or hearing a cardinal on a crisp cold day. But now, many bird species are dwindling. And scientists are
counting on birders like Georgina Doe to help them find out why.


Doe is one of many birders in North America who collects
information for scientists. Jeff Wells works with that information
at Cornell University’s Lab of Ornithology.


“There’s no way that we could ever pay the tens of thousands of
trained biologists that would be necessary to gather this kind of
information. It’s only possible when we can engage volunteers like
we do in citizen science projects.”


Cornell runs at least a dozen programs that rely on information
from average birders.


There’s the Christmas Bird Count. About 50 thousand people participate.
Another 50 thousand track species during the Great Backyard Bird
Count in February.


The volunteers reported that wood thrushes are disappearing in
many areas. And they’re tracking the effect of the West Nile Virus
on bird populations.


“If a little bird dies, usually it just disappears quickly
and no one ever sees it. So we don’t really know the impact.
And so looking at the differences in the numbers and distribution
might give us some sense of when the disease was rampant in the summer,
whether it killed off enough birds to make a noticeable
difference in our count.”


(sound of quiet footsteps)


Robert Cermak: “You can see it’s about 10 inches high. It’s all fluffed
up right now…”


Birder Robert Cermak tiptoes closer to a barred owl sitting in the
crook of a tree. We’re in Ottawa, Canada’s capital and a city of about a million
people. When it comes to bird counts, this is Cermak’s territory.


“It’s not often that you see a barred owl, any owl, during
the day. They’re usually more secretive. This one is not too
afraid to be out so it’s probably more accustomed to having people
around it, since this is the center of the city.”


Like Georgina Doe, Cermak has been birding for years. But even with
veterans, there’s always concern about their accuracy. Cermak
discovered this firsthand when he reported seeing a rare
harlequin duck last year.


“I sent it in and a few hours later, someone from Cornell –
very politely because it’s a delicate subject to question
someone’s sighting of a rare bird – but they very delicately
indicated that a harlequin duck is extremely unusual in Ontario and
could I please provide a few extra details.”


Cermak sent them a published account of the sighting. He also
gave them the number of a local expert.


Jeff Wells says researchers check their facts carefully. They look
for reports that don’t match others in the surrounding area. Sometimes
an investigation turns up a trained ornithologist… and sometimes not.
But overall, Wells says the information has formed the basis for
hundreds of published studies.


That’s something that makes birders like Robert Cermak and
Georgina Doe feel proud.


“It’s nice because you’re contributing. You’re doing a
lot of hours, it uses a lot of gas, you go around a lot of blocks
but we just think it’s important.”


(sound of Georgina Doe walking)


Georgina Doe says she doesn’t really think of herself as a
scientist. But she’s out there every day, with her ear to the wind. And that’s
what the scientists are counting on.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Karen Kelly.

Related Links

Interview: Red-Winged Blackbirds Heralds of Spring

  • A male Red-winged Blackbird (Photo courtesy of the USFWS)

Many people in the Great Lakes region are told to watch for the robin as a sign that Spring has come. But that bird may not be the best indicator, even after this especially cold winter. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Jim Blum decided to venture out beyond his backyard to find a better sign:

Transcript

Many people in the (Midwest/Great Lakes region) are told to watch for the Robin as a sign that
Spring has come. But that bird may not be the best indicator, even after this especially cold
winter. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Jim Blum decided to venture out beyond his
backyard to find a better sign:


Blum: You might think of a robin or a bluebird as harbingers of spring but that may not be
correct. I’m Jim Blum with naturalist Dan Best, we’re at the edge of a marsh on a soggy
afternoon.


Best: Well Jim, it’s true that the greater numbers of bluebirds and robins arrive back in these
parts in March, but bluebirds and robins – they’re frequent enough in winter to ruin their
reputations as the heralds of spring.


Blum: Well, I’m thinking you have another bird in mind.


Best: Well, yeah, I was thinking of the blackbirds actually. The grackles and red-winged
blackbirds. They usually hit town in February.


Blum: I’ve always associated red-winged black birds with cattails. Aren’t they birds of the
wetlands?


Best: Well, yes. Marshes are their traditional habitat and remain their preferred habitat. They
weave a basket-like nest among the stems of the cattails, the rushes or other tall plants at the
waters edge. And while marshes are their favorite still, they’ve branched out.


Blum: You mean they’re starting to use other habitats?


Best: Why yes, as you know Jim, in a trend that unfortunately continues today marshes and other
shallow water wetlands – as they have been for decades – have been drained or filled for
agriculture and building.


Blum: Which would explain why so many of our rare and endangered plants and animals are
wetland species.


Best: Yes, indeed. However, as many forms of wetland wildlife have declined with the loss of
their habitat, red wing black birds, apparently more adaptable, have made a successful transition
into upland habitats, such as meadows and grassy interstate margins, hay fields, clover, alfalfa
fields.


Blum: Well there’s no wonder why there’s so many of them. I can recall those huge flocks that
we saw in the fall strung out across the sky almost like a plume of smoke.


(sound of huge flocks of birds)


Best: Yeah, and every night for several weeks they gather by the hundreds to roost in trees near
somebody’s house.


(red-wing blackbird song)


Blum: Well, red-wing blackbirds at almost any time of the year are pretty noisy birds. Their
song, if you can call it that, certainly doesn’t rival the cardinal or any other songbird for that
matter.


Best: No, you’re right about that, Jim. Can’t argue that point.


Blum: What does the bird look like? Can you describe it?


Best: Well, as the name implies they’re overall black. The males, they have a yellowish wing
bar and they also have a red shoulder patch or epaulet that they display while they are
establishing their territory or engaging in courtship.


Blum: What about the females?


Best: Well, they’re different looking. They actually look like big sparrows. That is, they’re
kind of a dark brown and very streaky.


Blum: Describe this display that the male is putting on.


Best: Well, they find a prominent perch and then from here they fan out their wings and tail
feathers and let out a real boisterous kon-kor-eeeee.


Blum: So this is to establish territory and they’ll keep doing this even before the females have
arrived?


(walking in grass)


Best: That’s right. They’re staking their claim but once the once the girls arrive well then this
display really kicks into high gear.


Blum: What’s the best way to see the antics of the red wing?


Best: Well, since these birds are pretty common, chances are you’re not going to have to go too
far from home. A little patch of cattails or reeds alongside the road. I mean, invariably they’ll be
perched on a wire or on a tree nearby will be a male red-wing displaying.


Blum: While other birds get more poetic respect, I have a sense you feel this bird is special.


Best: Well, yeah, as spring proceeds we’ll see more musical songsters come our way, but
doggone it, you know, when I hear that quirky song of the red-winged blackbird in late winter
when there is still snow on the ground, to me, that’s one of the first sure signs of spring.


Blum: That’s naturalist Dan Best. I’m Jim Blum for the Great Lakes Radio Consortium. Let’s
check out that cattail stand, do you think we’re going to get one?


Best: Oh, I’ll betcha there’ll be one there.


(sound of walking in marsh, fades out)

Birders’ Passion Helps Scientists

  • Backyard birders across North America are helping scientists track the fate of our feathered friends. (Photo courtesy of USFWS)

Every year, tens of thousands of avid birdwatchers wander through frozen fields and marshy swamps. Their job is to record as many birds as they can find in a given area. For birders, it’s a day to enjoy the outdoors while doing what they love most. But as the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Karen Kelly reports, that passion serves another purpose – it helps scientists:

Transcript

Every year, tens of thousands of avid birdwatchers wander through
frozen fields and marshy swamps. Their job is to record as many birds
as they can find in a given area. For birders, it’s a day to enjoy the outdoors
while doing what they love most. But as the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s
Karen Kelly reports, that passion serves another purpose – it helps scientists:


(sound of footsteps)


Georgina Doe: “There’s five robins right there and there’s three common mergansers,
males…”


Georgina Doe scans the shoreline with her binoculars. Within seconds,
she spots a tiny glimpse of a bird and names it.


She knows them by the way they dive in the air, and the way they thrust
their chests out.


Doe has been scanning the treetops of Carleton Place, Ontario for
more than 30 years. She says she loves the chase and the element of surprise.
And over the years, birding has also been her escape.


She remembers watching a robin build its nest when her grandson
was seriously ill.


“So I used to count the birds every morning before I went off to
the hospital. And then after that, you come back to reality. Somehow a
little bird can just make you feel better.”


Birds have been a part of all of our lives. We might not know their names.
But we can remember holding a baby chick. Or hearing a cardinal on a crisp cold day.


But now, many bird species are dwindling. And scientists are
counting on birders like Georgina Doe to help them find out why.


Doe is one of many birders in North America who collects
information for scientists. Jeff Wells works with that information
at Cornell University’s Lab of Ornithology.


“There’s no way that we could ever pay the tens of thousands of
trained biologists that would be necessary to gather this kind of
information. It’s only possible when we can engage volunteers like
we do in citizen science projects.”


Cornell runs at least a dozen programs that rely on information
from average birders.


There’s the Christmas Bird Count. About 50 thousand people participate.
Another 50 thousand track species during the Great Backyard Bird
Count in February.


The volunteers reported that wood thrushes are disappearing in
many areas. And they’re tracking the effect of the West Nile Virus
on bird populations.


“If a little bird dies, usually it just disappears quickly
and no one ever sees it. So we don’t really know the impact.
And so looking at the differences in the numbers and distribution
might give us some sense of when the disease was rampant in the summer,
whether it killed off enough birds to make a noticeable
difference in our count.”


(sound of quiet footsteps)


Robert Cermak: “You can see it’s about 10 inches high. It’s all fluffed
up right now so it’s
hard to get a sense of
its mass…”


Birder Robert Cermak tiptoes closer to a barred owl sitting in the
crook of a tree.


We’re in Ottawa, Canada’s capital and a city of about a million
people. When it comes to bird counts, this is Cermak’s territory.


“It’s not often that you actually see a barred owl, any owl, during
the day. They’re usually more secretive. This one is not too
afraid to be out so it’s probably become more accustomed to having people
around it, since this is the center of the city.”


Like Georgina Doe, Cermak has been birding for years. But even with
veterans, there’s always concern about their accuracy. Cermak
discovered this firsthand when he reported seeing a rare
harlequin duck last year.


“I sent it in and a few hours later, someone from Cornell –
very politely because it’s a delicate subject to question
someone’s sighting of a rare bird – but they very delicately
indicated that a harlequin duck is extremely unusual in Ontario and
could I please provide a few extra details.”


Cermak sent them a published account of the sighting. He also
gave them the number of a local expert.


Jeff Wells says researchers check their facts carefully. They look
for reports that don’t match others in the surrounding area. Sometimes
an investigation turns up a trained ornithologist… and sometimes not.
But overall, Wells says the information has formed the basis for
hundreds of published studies.


That’s something that makes birders like Robert Cermak and
Georgina Doe feel proud.


“It’s nice because you’re contributing. You’re doing a
lot of hours, it uses a lot of gas, you go around a lot of blocks doing this
kind of count
but we just think it’s important.”


(sound of Georgina Doe walking)


Georgina Doe says she doesn’t really think of herself as a
scientist.


But she’s out there every day, with her ear to the wind. And that’s
what the scientists are counting on.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Karen Kelly.

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