Tony

Tony writes,
“Kate –
It is illegal, without a license, to remove a cowbird egg from a nest. Brown-headed Cowbird is protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, passed into law in 1918. It is hard for people to realize that cowbirds are natural. However, in some instances (e.g., Kirtland’s Warbler), researchers are issued permits to remove eggs.
Tony”

(I corrected the text above per Dr. Bledsoe’s comment below.)

Every time I see a cowbird I get so frustrated knowing that it was raised by a bird of another species, at the expense of that bird’s offspring. If a nest containing a cowbird egg is found, is it wrong for a human to remove that egg, or is it best to leave it alone and let nature take its course?

The good news about Chuck’s photos is that the vireos were fledging that day; the nest was about to be empty.

We all should be careful to abide by the American Birding Association’s Code of Birding Ethics regarding nests & sensitive areas:
“Keep well back from nests and nesting colonies, roosts, display areas, and important feeding sites. In such sensitive areas, if there is a need for extended observation, photography, filming, or recording, try to use a blind or hide, and take advantage of natural cover.”

For the complete ABA Code of Ethics, see: http://www.americanbirding.org/abaethics.htm

In Any Walk With Nature…

I have been recently photographing a mother bird and her eggs. On two occasions after having discovered a bird’s nest in the woods, I ventured to photograph the mother bird, eggs and nest, which was conveniently located at chest level. Telling myself to be careful not to get too close, I presumed that I would not inadvertently cause her to leave the nest. This was a risky endeavor, as others told me that the mother may abandon her eggs, but having discovered one cowbird egg in the nest I became more daring, deciding to remove the foreign egg from the Vireo’s nest. Neither this event nor the actual photography in themselves, as I hoped, had any direct effect on the mother or her two remaining eggs that could be measured in a period of four days following. If all had gone well, then the effect would have been unobservable.

In general terms, the effect people have on nature beyond the immediate nuisance of the casual contact of mankind with nature, is perhaps best measured over large time frames. The friction caused by people unhinges itself over the ages and results in wild things being shy or afraid of us. We sometimes wonder why.

The mother peacefully roosted those next four days without my further interference. But after that period something happened. The mother was making uneasy noises from up in the trees. I wondered what was wrong and took a quick glance in the nest. The eggs were gone. I was appalled, quite upset really. I wondered what had caused the demise of the two remaining Vireo eggs? I searched the ground, but could not find them.

The mother is gone now, probably for good. If one were to ask what happened, I would have to honestly say, ‘I cannot say, but I have my suspicions.’ I believe that I, having observed the mother and her eggs, am indirectly responsible. If one were a detective looking for evidence, all that may be found would be circumstantial. And without delving into those circumstances surrounding this event, I believe that my observation attempts lead to the loss of those eggs. By observing I changed the interactions of nature. I won’t be giving up on my observations, but in the future I think I’ll be more careful, and perhaps buy a more powerful zoom lens, and most importantly, will keep my oaf fingers to myself.

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks” — John Muir, one of the original founders of the Sierra Club

On this walk with nature, I learned an important lesson. Perhaps we ought to thoughtfully add one more note:

In any walk with nature, one disturbs far more than he knows.

Douglas A. Bauman

June 2004