birdingthebrookeandbeyond

So Many Choices!

When I first realized how much I enjoyed birding, I knew I needed some new binoculars.  I owned a pair of Bushnell porro prism binoculars at the time.  Porro prisms are the ones that have a ‘z-shaped’ optical path, where the objective lenses are offset from the eyepieces.  These are the kind of binoculars favored by Navy admirals, or at least by the actors playing them, when they scan the sea for U-boats.  They usually have a lot of magnification and weigh almost as much as an anvil.  And they’re completely useless for birding.  So I knew I wanted the other kind, called roof prism binoculars, where the objective lenses are in line with the eyepieces, giving you a lighter-weight streamlined shape.  Unfortunately, I still thought I needed a lot of magnification, so I bought a pair of 12 X 50s.  The first number is the magnification, and the second number is the diameter (in millimeters) of the objective (front) lens.  The magnification number basically tells you how much closer an object appears than without magnification, so 12 X 50 binoculars ‘bring’ an object 12 times closer.  Another way to put this is that a 12 magnification will make an object 120 feet distant appear to be only 10 feet away.

The second number, objective lens diameter, relates to light-gathering capability.  The larger the number, the more light is gathered, and the more light that is gathered, the brighter the object becomes.  One would think, then, that you should look for the biggest numbers available, both in magnification and in objective lens size.  However, big numbers are not the whole story, and lots of magnification and big lenses have their shortcomings, especially when it comes to birding.

For one thing, bigger numbers generally mean bigger binoculars, and a 12 X 50 pair, as I quickly learned, weighed enough to take a lot of fun out of birding.  There are other disadvantages, too.  Higher magnification gives you a smaller field of view, something you definitely do not want when birding.  When your friend spots a rare warbler in a mesquite tree 40 feet away, you want to be able to ‘get on’ the bird quickly, before it flits away.  With larger magnification binoculars, your field of view is smaller, and you might still be trying to find the bird long after it has flown the coop.  The larger field of view you enjoy with smaller magnification binoculars also lets you see more birds in a flock, and allows you to follow a moving bird more easily.

Larger magnification binoculars also take more time to focus, are less capable of focusing on close objects and they exaggerate any unsteady hold.  When you’re birding, you want to be able to bring a bird into focus quickly.  Some birds cooperate by sitting in one place, but the most exciting ones always seem to think the grass (or tree) is greener somewhere else.  If you’re lucky, a rare bird might even fly onto a nearby perch, but most high magnification binoculars will not focus on close objects.  Ideally, your binoculars should be able to focus on objects as close as ten feet or less.

For most of us on Social Security, a steady hand is a distant memory.  For this group, even a 10X pair of binoculars will exaggerate an unsteady hold and keep you from getting a clear look at that special bird.  After I traded my 12X binoculars for a pair of 10X, I still wasn’t happy.  The 10X were smaller and lighter, but I continued to have trouble finding a bird that others could see, and when I did find him, even a slight hand movement would interfere with a clean look.

Binoculars come in many flavors, at a wide range of prices.  If you have one of those pair that Sterling Hayden used to spot German submarines, or if you are trying to find birds with a compact pair of opera glasses, it’s probably time to trade up.  The good news is that it’s not necessary to buy the most expensive binoculars around.  There are some beauties at $2,000, but you can find excellent high-performance binoculars for $300 or less.  Generally speaking, if you are serious about birding, you should avoid binoculars under $100, since these are less likely to have good optics.  At the same time, there seems to be little advantage in the range above $350 until you get at least to $1,000.  In my opinion, you will be happiest with a 7X or 8X pair of binoculars, and more than one good pair are available in these sizes at $200-350.

One of my favorites is the Nikon Monarch ATB 8 X 42.  These binoculars are waterproof, provide an excellent field of view (about 300 feet at 1,000 yards) and will focus on objects as close as 8 feet.  The nature shop at Tucson Audubon will match online reseller prices such as Amazon (currently $259) for members, and they waive the sales tax.  This is just one of many reasons to consider joining Tucson Audubon.  In addition, these binoculars come with an incredible 25 year ‘no fault’ warranty.  Probably more than I need, but I’ve always been an optimist.

(Note:  The above article and photographs are copyrighted by Bob Bowers.  The original article was written on December 29, 2011, and published in the February, 2012, issue of the Saddlebag Notes Newspaper, SaddleBrooke, Arizona.)

While the Female Raises the Kids, it's Guys Night Out

Many of our birds, like the Curve-billed Thrasher, are monogamous.  Happily mated for life, these birds work together.  They build their nests jointly, hang out together and share parental responsibilities, like incubating, feeding and fledging their young.  They don’t flirt, let alone mess around.

Well, not so for hummingbirds.  If men could be reincarnated as birds, most would likely vote for coming back as a hummer.  Female hummingbirds shoulder the entire burden of child-rearing.  They find a nesting site, search for lint, hair and spider web and build the nest alone.  They lay their eggs unattended, have to fend for their own food, incubate the eggs and feed the hungry young.  When it comes time to teach the new hummingbirds how to leave the nest, fly backwards and forage for food, it’s the mom’s job, all by her lonesome.

And where is dad throughout these trying times?  Well, he’s hanging out with the guys over at the local nectar bar.  When female hummingbirds are working their tails off looking for nesting sites, the males are bar-hopping, finding the best feeders or flowers in town and doing their best to keep them to themselves.  Males will stake out the biggest territory they think they can defend, and then spend more time fighting with other birds than drinking.  While the females shun makeup, slave over nest-building and deal with demanding kids, the males get gussied up (Costa’s dress up in purple, Anna’s in bright red and Broad-billed in iridescent blue), pick fights and hog the bar stools.

Although the males aggressively chase off any and all male intruders, they do make an exception for hungry females.  Female hummingbirds are welcomed to male feeding territories with open wings, and the more, the merrier.  Showing their one and only generous side, males make room at the bar for every lady hummer crazy enough to wander in, and graciously pick up the tab.  But, of course, there’s a price.  Sorry, ladies, no free lunch.  And no sweet talk or long term relationships, either.  A little nectar, a lot of sex, and then time to move on, an old flame just buzzed in.  Male hummingbirds are the high school jock, Casanova and smooth-talking frat boy, all rolled into one.  For these guys, two partners are better than one and four better yet.  The only things missing are football, Schwarzenegger movies and a round of golf.

So what leads to all this debauchery and fast-living?  Maybe it’s the high metabolism, a heart rate up to 80 beats a second, or having to flap your wings 2,200 times a minute.  Maybe it’s just all that sugar water.  In any case, the next time you see a male Curve-billed Thrasher feeding the kids and looking wistfully over at the guys hanging out around the hummingbird feeder, show a little sympathy.

(Originally published in the Saddlebag Notes, July, 2011.  Text and photographs copyright Bob Bowers, all rights reserved.)

Six Geese-a-Laying Might be a bit Much

In spite of my obsession with birds, my true love never gave me a partridge in a pear tree or, for that matter, any of the other five birds mentioned in that old English Christmas carol. Even if you’re not a birder, don’t you find it interesting that half of the gifts immortalized in that old song are birds? With one exception, the other stuff is a bit strange, more like what you might expect at Lady Gaga’s birthday party: guests dancing and leaping, noisy musicians and milkmaids. But have you ever wondered about those birds in the song? Probably not. I have, though, and I’m here to share.

The Twelve Days of Christmas originated in Europe, and was published in England 231 years ago, making it older than most of my friends. Surprisingly, the birds of the song are real, though mostly European. Considering that Europeans have a dismal record of slaughtering and eating birds, it’s even more surprising that none of these are extinct.

Did They Really Mean a ‘Pear Tree’?

The only partridges we normally see in the U.S. Are the Chukar and the Gray Partridge, both non-native game birds that were introduced from Europe. However, they are related to several familiar birds, including grouse, ptarmigans, pheasants, prairie chickens and wild turkeys. Until fairly recently, our Gambel’s Quail were also part of this large family. The bird in the song probably is the Gray Partridge. Curiously, the French word for partridge is perdrix, pronounced ‘per dree’, suggesting that the pear tree of the song might be a typo. If the original version had been, ‘A partridge, une perdrix’ , it could accidentally have been transcribed as ‘A partridge in a pear tree.’

The European Turtle Dove looks a lot like our Mourning Dove, although unlike our dove it migrates to southern Africa each winter. Sometimes I wish ours would. Also unlike our dove, the Turtle Dove population has dropped by nearly two-thirds, in part due to the pathetic practice of shooting migratory birds for fun. On a lighter note, “Three French Hens” would have been a welcomed gift, since French chickens (Faverolles) are gentle, good pets, lay lots of eggs and make a good meal. Well, maybe not the family pet.

I always thought it was “Four calling birds”, but in researching this article, I discovered it’s “ Four colly birds”. Live and learn. It turns out that a colly bird is really a blackbird, specifically the Common Blackbird, a European bird that is actually a thrush like our American Robin, unrelated to our blackbirds. It also turns out that this bird is somewhat of a celebrity. It was considered sacred in classical Greek folklore, and it’s the subject of ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence.’ In that song, two dozen blackbirds were baked in a pie, a dainty dish to set before the king. In medieval times, they actually put live birds under a pie crust just before serving, which explains how the birds were able to sing when the pie was opened. The Common Blackbird is even the national bird of Sweden. I wonder if that had anything to do with the pie.

The final two birds of the song are action figures. Maybe ‘six geese-a-laying’ and ‘seven swans-a-swimming’ was a way to transition from perching birds to leaping lords. In any event, these are more familiar birds. We once lived on a river in Oregon, and didn’t have to travel far to see Tundra Swans in the winter. Our Canada Geese fit the song well, laying each spring and raising dozens of goslings in our backyard. In SaddleBrooke, you get a backyard full of quail. Sort of like geese, they lay lots of eggs, raise dozens of chicks and run around eating your flowers. On the other hand, Canada Geese stand three feet tall, have a wingspan of five feet and perpetually pump out fertilizer. Be thankful you’re in Arizona.

(Originally published in the Saddlebag Notes Newspaper, SaddleBrooke, Arizona, December, 2011.  Text and photograph copyright Bob Bowers, all rights reserved.)