I’m standing in a small clearing on the side of a densely wooded hill with a panoramic view of a large lake surrounded by unbroken forest. The lake’s surface is a mirror, and the sky is gray with a low solid overcast. The prospect is one of a vast wilderness, the kind of place I love to be in the middle of. But in this wilderness, I’m deeply troubled by something totally unexpected: It’s utterly quiet. No natural sounds and, especially, no birdsong break the heavy silence. It’s unnaturally still, and I find myself heartbroken by loss. All birds are gone from this place. Then, mercifully, I wake up.

That’s a nightmare from years ago that haunts me to this day, my grief stemming from the possibility of such a wilderness devoid of any birds. Such emotion is an all-too-common byproduct of a life in conservation, where I found that “every victory is temporary, every defeat permanent,” as Thomas Jefferson once said. We’re inclined to protect what we come to love: family, treasured places, and, yes, birds. But in today’s world, such caring comes at a cost. Environmental regulations, including the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918, are under assault. Habitat loss continues. And scientific evidence mounts for the reality of the impacts of anthropogenic climate change. Our beloved birds can’t get a break, and those of us who care can’t either.

Marker & ink on paper by © Sal Palmero.

What to do? Well first off, go birding. Get outside and away from the disturbing news and doomscrolling. The health and wellness benefits of birding are increasingly documented and shared online via websites like Ornitherapy and The Mindful Birding Network and podcasts like Mindful Birding and The Thing with Feathers. Birding offers real rejuvenation and a connection with the natural world that can restore and enliven us. Take care of yourself so you can better take care of others, including birds.

Seek community through birding by joining a local bird walk or organizing one yourself. Despite being an introvert, I find that my best birding memories are ones shared with others, even strangers. I remember the Bare-throated Tiger-Heron in flight over the Rio Grande on a rainy field trip with a dozen other birders during the 2023 Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival, and our collective joy over such an epic, serendipitous sighting. Later during that field trip, we found the bird perched on a snag along the river and enjoyed more leisurely views. Such shared experiences and a love of birds are the building blocks of the birding community; and in such community are found support, friendship, and acceptance.

Be a force for good through birding. Share your bird joy and knowledge with others, especially those new to birding. We need to recruit everyone we can to grow more support for birds and bird conservation. There’s hope and strength in numbers! Given renewed assaults on birds and their habitats, we need vigilance, community, and the will to speak out on behalf of bird conservation. Birders are a proven economic force that, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, spend more than $100 billion annually on birding-related goods and services. Let’s use that power to advocate for birds.

Fortunately, I’ve never encountered that deathly silent forest of my nightmare from long ago. As I write this, the oak–pine forest behind our Maryland home is beautifully noisy with birdsong as northbound Neotropical migrants return. At this writing, I just now heard the song of my first-of-the-year Northern House Wren, hope personified in the form of a tiny yet resilient bird. May your dreams and days be filled with birdsong.

Good birding,

Wayne Klockner
Executive Director