Whether you are actually in the field, or simply one who has wanted to learn more about the Ivory-bill, this thread is designed for you to get to know your fellow members in a more personal way. Our hope is that this thread can continue to help build warmth and comradery on the site and allow us to simply share more about who we are personally. Perhaps it could aptly be labeled: A field Guide to Ivory-bill Researchers.
We of course expect that among our members there will be many different backgrounds, perspectives, and positions on various issues. No provision will be made for posting political, religious, ethical, or any brand of debate-style postings. Of course we understand that such topics may have particular relevance for you and your approach to matters Ivory-bill. Posts of a discourteous or combative manner will immediately be removed and the author dealt with accordingly.
We also understand that some value their anonymity and will desire not to introduce themselves here. No one should feel any pressure whatsoever to make a contribution to this thread. We only intend that those who wish to do so have the opportunity. Even if you do not introduce yourself here, feel free to jump in at any point to pose or answer questions, give encouragement, or make relevant comments.
Please remember if you have any updates, insights, or ivory-bill reports to record these on our regular forum area under the appropriate thread. This thread is designed specifically as a get-to-know-you only thread.
We realize that many of our member’s talents and experiences offer a kaleidoscope of wealth as we share in our common experience of being those who are drawn together with our common interest in this magnificent bird. It should be great fun in getting to know you more!
Our family obtained groceries and did basic shopping, haircuts, hardware purchases at a little town called Hartland in New Brunswick in Canada. When I left there in 1974 the population hadnt changed much over the years. Still holding at 1000 people. Not only did the nearby St. John River have some great Atlantic Salmon pools for fly fishing, it also boasts the longest covered bridge in the world. It was a long walk for a little boy to clump clump his way through the narrow covered sidewalk to go to town, and always a bit intimidating staring down through the cracks of the bridge at the icey water below.
I am sure adults must have become tired of my questioins about wildlife. Grandma Edna Kimball noticed how much I loved birds even at age 6. She gave me my very first book. It was made up of small collectors cards found in Red Rose Tea titled SongBirds of North America. She wisely bought the whole set and glued them in place for me. Even though I couldnt read very well yet, I quickly learned and read it constantly. This was followed by other books over the years, mostly as presents for birthdays and Christmas. By Age 13 I learned that there was a guide that could tell me all of the species in the area! With my Petersons in hand and more independence to roam the surrounding fields and forests, I was well on my way to living my dream, to learn everything that flew, sang, and nested in my area. I am thankful somehow I managed to keep most of my childhood books. A great way to go down memory lane.
Like most children I loved to draw. My subject? What a shock... birds and animals of course. I was bound and determined to design my own field guide. By age 15 I had been encouraged in the direction of becoming a professional artist. The opinon (whether accurate or not) was that I had the talent to go professional. One problem ... I would rather spend my time roving the fields and forests rather than staying on task to focus exclusively on my artwork. I had a difficult time telling my Father that I truly didnt want to be a professional artist afterall. However it was definitely the correct decision.
At age 11 my medium was simply colored pencils but as you can see in the tundra swan illustration by age 17 water colors became my choice for creative work. Note the interesting species of butterfly in the redstart picture. Only from the mind of an 11 year old! Later on for the cover of a local Newsletter I chose pen and ink.
Even as little boy one of the birds that absolutely facinated me in my tea card book was the scarlet tanager. I drew them and literally even dreamt that I had seen one. I had no idea that New Brunswick has a robust population of scarlets that live here in its northern most range and that they literally nested about 1000 yards from my doorstep! At age 13 I spotted my first one and was determined to find a nest. That didnt happen until around age 20. I kept looking for the nests described in literature published from the USA. Typically hardwoods. Years later I developed a search image for scarlet nests and found several. In New Brunswick their nest tree of choice is actually balsam fir! I was looking in the wrong type of habitat! Scarlets remain one of my all time favorite songsters.
I got my first pair of binoculars as a 13 year old. Carl Wetzlar's ... and a tremendous improvement over my old blue plastic pair! However for some reason being an adventuresome teen I went through binoculars like other kids went through mittens. One pair I left in the hollow trunk of a tree overnight. To my horror an overnight rainstorm proved they were less than waterproof. Another pair like the ones shown here took a flying circus leap along with yours truly over the handlebars of my bicycle onto solid pavement. Needless to say they were not in good shape afterwards. For the most part I earned my own money for the binos but was still rough on them.
Like most boys in my neighborhood I was always climbing... and i mean 80 feet up into sugar maples etc. Here I am at age 35 putting up a kestrel box.
Later on I would be hired for my climbing ability to gather egg fragments from bald eagle nests and retrieve eggs for various studies with Canadian Wildlife Service.
Wintertime in New Brunswick held its own beautyGo to Top
As a kid I could hardly wait for those magic words to echo over the kitchen radio: "I am sorry but due to the weather conditions School Bus # 28 will not be running today". Snow and snowmobiles are a way of life in this region, as are cross country skiis. As a young adult I used them to creep ever closer to a feeding pileated woodpecker in order to get this picture with my Olympus OM-1 SLR Camera and 400mm Vivitar lens. The trick is not to fall head over heels down a snowey incline while aiming the camera!
Winter Specialties hold a youngster captivatedGo to Top
When not burning energy having winter time fun my ears and eyes were often tuned to the skies. With winter came a changing of the guard. Fields that normally held Short eared Owls could one day surprise with an elegant Snowey. Chipping sparrows that were long since gone were replaced by the Tree Sparrow. HawkOwls were a rare surprise while Common Redpolls rollicking calls filtered down to my ears on frosty mornings. The calls of Borel chickadees often mixed in with the flocks of Black-caps were easily distinguished by their lazy chick-a-day-day calls.
Even in the North East winter gradually gives way to spring ever so slowly. The view from my bedroom window would gradually change. The otters woodland cousin, a fisher swims in the St. John River, while White Tailed Deer find the beginnings of spring forage. Snowshoe hares, on the menu for every predator from Bobcat to Great Horned Owls would eventually turn solid brown with white bellies. The large pond shown here where my brother and I had been skating would offer a place for a cow moose who just gave birth to a gangley calf to feed on yellow water lilies as the landscape began to change dramatically.
With the lengthening of days I came alive myself attuned to the world around me. Warm spring days produced a time of unfolding beauty.
With some wonderful opportunities to work in the field of wildlife research elsewhere I chose to leave my childhood home in the Hartland area.
As you can tell I have focused heavily on my early years here, simply because these were the most formative. Self-trained for the most-part, I was fortunate enough to acquire relatively steady work as a wildlife technician for over 17 years. Most of my work was with Canadian Wildlife Service but occasionally with Consultant companies and Universities. I certainly wish I had taken many more pictures but I found that when in the field I tended to be focused on the work itself. Wildlife photography was something I tended to do off site on my days off. Naturally I regret having missed many opportunities. However I have many memories that will last a lifetime.
Last edited by donaldgkimball : 04-09-2007 at 10:17 PM.
Reason: A rush of growth
I did many years of radio/telemetry work where I tracked black bear (like the one being fitted for a radio collar here). Other telemetry was with Black Duck females In Prince Edward Island, Spruce Grouse in Northern Ontario, and Eastern Coyotes in New Brunswick.
Much of the work that I did for other projects was in relation to toxic chemicals. Often I was hired strictly as a nest finder and tree climber to obtain egg samples from a variety of species such as black capped chickadees, solitary vireos, as well as Bald Eagles for DDE/DDT analysis.
Waterfowl banding in Newfoundland/labrador held some fun surprises as well. Like finding an infant blue whales still intact skull on the beach. Working with spruce grouse in Northern Ontario took me to timber wolf country where I often saw their huge prints in the sand.
Cavity and nest snag work was a great challenge as I got to work with everything from Boreal chickadees to Pileated Woodpeckers. "Nesting" or the work of finding bird nests for various studies was one of my all time favorite activities. I know little that is as exciting or rewarding as finding a long sought after nest. I became known around Canadian Wildlife Service circles as the "nest dog". I guess because I was successful.
I have included a picture of one of my all time best friends Neville Garrity, a 30 year veteran wildlife tech for Canadian Wildlife Service Atlantic region. Here he is with his family near Sackville, New Brunswick and earlier in 1977 teaching me to fish for Northern Pike in Lake Champlain, Quebec.
A very long story made short: A personal journey led me to California in 1991 and a dramatic change of careers! I exchanged the wilderness of the Maritimes for the wilderness of the human mind, heart, and emotions. I went back to school and graduated with a Masters in Psychotherapy/counseling and now live in Marin County, California. Fortunately China Camp State Park is on my doorstep to escape to when I want to see waterways and forest and I am only a 45 min drive from Point Reyes National Seashore and some other beautiful areas. Yosemite National Park is a half day drive away, and my wildlife-loving cousins and beautiful wilderness a short flight away in British Columbia.
In the past couple of years I have had the good fortune to do a lot more traveling internationally and have started wildlife filming using DV format. I have never lost my facination with wildlife, and as often as I can I still study and film the life around me. Nor has my enthusiasm been dampened when it comes to the ivory-bill. As a mental health worker I find the whole human behavior saga surrounding this species almost as facinating as the species itself! Many things to study in this realm you can be sure.
Jim Tanner obviously has nothing on you when it comes to fearlessness and climbing ability, Don, quite a handy skill to have when studying woodpeckers and other birds.
I'll give it a shot too. I grew up near Charleston, South Carolina and the two greatest mysteries of my youth were the CSS Hunley and the Ivory Bill Woodpecker. They found the Hunley a few years ago, and now the IBWO is back. I am at a loss for new mysteries.
Maybe soneone out there could spot a Carolina Parakeet. . . ?
I have a BS from Clemson (1987 Zoology), a PhD from Duke (1994 Zoology, I studied fossil pollen in Africa), and a JD from Duke. I make my living as a prosecutor, but still miss the science sometimes. I have no idea where my ancestors were in the seventeenth century, but by 1730 they were well-established in the western Virginia/eastern Tennessee area and in the sugar cane lands of Rio de Janeiro State in Brasil. I can get by in English, but my Portugese is terrible.
I am a herpetologist and a native of Louisiana. My father was interested in genealogy and traced his ancestry as well as my mother's. Like many people born in southern Louisiana, I can trace my ancestry to people with names like Martin, Doucet, Vigneux, and Savoie, people who along with many others were part of the great Cajun exodus from Nova Scotia to La. in the late eighteenth century. Cajuns are a people who have always had close ties to the land, and perhaps it is something in my genes that has always made me feel a close bond with the natural world. As a little boy I was constantly engaged in back-yard adventures with everything from mantids to box turtles. With each passing year I wandered farther and farther afield. By the time I was 15 I was catching cottonmouths in the swamp a few miles from our house. As soon as I could drive I took every opportunity to explore as many hidden corners of Louisiana as I could, from the sandstone mesas and waterfalls of the Kistachie Hills to the 50-foot bluff overlooking the Gulf at Cote Blanche Island. But it was not until I took ornithology as a grad student at USL (now ULL) that I became aware of the story of the ivory-billed woodpecker, the crown jewel of the southern swamps, and the tragedy of the Singer Tract. It was a story of rapaciousness and incredible short-sightedness, like the story of the devastation of the magnificent cypress groves that once blanketed the Atchafalaya Basin, and the magnificent longleaf forests that stretched for mile upon mile across the hills of central La. For me this single animal encapsulated the whole disaster. It was our "Van Dyke" as Audubon called it, an animal with elegance and power and royalty about it. In one sense it seemed out of place among the gray spanish moss and dark swamp water. Yet on the other hand it was the crowning glory of it all, the thing that made the tapestry complete. And so I thought the tapestry would never be complete again. Yet as I explored I came to realize that not everything had been destroyed. There were still magnificent stands of ancient cypress, like the huge trees in what is now Cat Island NWR. I saw that large areas of bottomland forest had never been clear-cut, contrary to popular belief, only selectively logged, and even many of these areas had not seen a saw in many decades. Was it possible that the ivory-bill, too, managed to come through the holocaust? Like many people, my answer was, probably not.
Then in 2002 there was the news from the Pearl. A group of searchers had recorded some intriguing tapping. Many eyebrows were raised, including mine. Then the word came back from Cornell. The sounds were gunshots. There was no doubt. That's it, I thought. The ivory-bill is gone. Accept it.
Then of course, in the spring of 2005, came the announcement from Arkansas. Arkansas, of all places! I looked at the evidence. I looked at it again. And again. More came in 2006, from the Pearl and from Florida. I began to communicate with people - birders, hunters, ordinary folks. In the last 2 years I have come to realize how blind and how deaf I have been. The birds have been out there all along. They have been seen all along. But there is a huge divide between the hunters, fishermen, and ordinary folks of the South, and the academicians and professional birders. It is something that I have only really begun to appreciate in the last 2 years. Ordinary folks with little academic knowledge of birds, even if they are very observant, usually have no clue how globally rare a given bird is. There are lots of species that they rarely see. In a given area a bald eagle or a swallow-tailed kite is a rare sight. How are they supposed to know that such a bird is nowhere near as big a deal as that funny-looking big woodpecker they saw once a few years ago? They are amazed that birders consider it such a holy grail. By the same token, ornithologists have to wade through lots of misidentifications and outright falsehoods. More than once people have brought photos to ornithologists that they were sure were ivory-bills, only to have them turn out to be obvious pileateds (or green herons of all things!). How are they supposed to separate the wheat from the chaff? And finally, many areas are nowhere near as friendly to penetrate as the Singer Tract. No offense to Jim Tanner, but the Singer Tract was a piece of cake compared to many other potential ivory-bill areas. He simply did not attempt to get into some of the areas I know about now, and he probably wouldn't have seen classic ivory-bill foraging sign if he had. Some private lands have miles of unlogged forest that to this day have not been examined by any birder and are rarely even penetrated by the landowner. Without a machete they present an unpleasant prospect. Unless you happen to be an ivory-billed woodpecker.
I still look at the evidence, every day, as it comes in. To this day I still look at the Luneau video, the Collins video, the sounds recorded from various places, data, data, data. I read and listen to reports. I have been trained as a scientist. I do my very best to apply every ounce of critical thinking at my command. Every day I come away with the same working hypothesis. The ivory-bill is still out there.
For the last 12 years I have worked at a major accredited zoo on the southern tip of Texas. There are lots of interesting birds and lots of interesting herps down here. I have documented rare amphibians, including one species that was thought to have been extirpated. Every day I work with king cobras, Komodo dragons, and giant tortoises. Every day I see wild birds in the zoo that many Americans never get to see. Here is a sample:
But Louisiana will always be my true home. Its magnificent old live oaks and cypresses are part of who I am. The ivory-billed woodpecker, the crown jewel of it all, is part of who I am. For all that has been lost, these things are living testaments to the fact that we were wrong to despair. We cannot go back. But we can go forward with hope and renewed determination. We can get it right this time.
Last edited by fangsheath : 04-10-2007 at 04:05 AM.
[quote=fangsheath;2172]I am a herpetologist and a native of Louisiana. My father was interested in genealogy and traced his ancestry as well as my mother's. Like many people born in southern Louisiana, I can trace my ancestry to people with names like Martin, Doucet, Vigneux, and Savoie, people who along with many others were part of the great Cajun exodus from Nova Scotia to La. Being from the Maritime provinces myself you can bet that these names are extremely common in French speaking areas of New Brunswick. With a grade D in history I have to admit I dont know much about the Expulsion of the Acadiens except that somehow I miraculously passed the subject in school.
By the time I was 15 I was catching cottonmouths in the swamp a few miles from our house. Wow! a little more of a challenge than catching red-bellied snakes in Maritime Canada ... Did you do the Steve Irwin thing and catch them by hand or did you use any kind of snake stick?
Every day I work with king cobras, Komodo dragons, and giant tortoises. Every day I see wild birds in the zoo that many Americans never get to see. Here is a sample: http://gpz.org/birding/index.htm
Parrots are one of my favorite birds and I cant get enough of them. It would be great to see the amazons flying wild in Texas! I saw a few in McAllen once on a birding trip there in 1986.
But Louisiana will always be my true home. Its magnificent old live oaks and cypresses are part of who I am. Would this be the same species of live oak that I enjoy here in northern California?
Thanks for the window into your passion for wildlife Dave and of course your passion for this magnificent woodpecker.
I work in water resources engineering, which unfortunately means I spend alot of time in front of my computer instead of in the field. I dream of taking some time to look for Ivory-bills, and my brother (a very good bird photographer) and I may consider a road trip to Ivory-bill country one of these years if things line up well in our lives to allow for it. In the mean time, I'm living vicariously through all of you in the swamps.
While I would have never considered free-handling a venomous snake, in my younger days I have to admit that I did not use proper tools. The miracle was that I didn't get bitten, although I had a few close calls. I think you will find that most herpetologists are proud of their snakebite record - for the numbers of bites that AREN'T there. I have had only one bite in 34 years of handling venomous snakes.
The live oak that is native to Louisiana and is Quercus virginiana. It reaches diameters of over 10 feet (I have personally measured specimens over 9) but does not occur west of Texas. California boasts species such as canyon live oak, Quercus chrysolepis, and California live oak, Quercus agrifolia, among others.
I am certainly not a 'researcher', only an interested observer and occasional contributor to the various fora.
Birds have been a lifelong interest as well as plants, insects, reptiles, fish - anything that belongs in a field guide and has a genus and species name to be learned. Growing up in western MA., each day after school I would go out in nearby woods, ponds and fields and try to find something new, whether insects, wildflowers, aquatic life, but always birds were foremost. Spring and fall migration meant bicycling to local hawk-watch sites. Once I found that the 'confusing fall warblers' on that Peterson plate were not really so when seen at eye level, I could be found up a ladder in the big backyard white oak watching them move through, amazed at how many bay-breasteds and blackpolls I had missed from the ground.
Field guides and bird books were evening reading. I began collecting books. Forbush's Birds of Massachusetts, the Dover reprints of AC Bent. Oddly enough, Tanner was in my elementary school library, and triggered a fascination with the canonical 'extinct species' of N. America. Later, while at school (one with a reputable ornithology program, though I never interacted with them, choosing geology instead) I went to Elmira NY to mark the centennial of the last known Labrador Duck. Standing by the river I felt an odd disappointment that noone else seemed to be there... was it so unimportant to lose a unique and imperfectly known species? Let's just say the Arkansas news was profoundly moving.
In my childhood, any sighting, anywhere in the state, of moose, black bear, turkey or raven was remarkable. Now, living back in the hills in western MA, on any given day I might see these and others, and on my own place... an ongoing reminder of how habitat and populations can recover.
While I would have never considered free-handling a venomous snake, in my younger days I have to admit that I did not use proper tools. The miracle was that I didn't get bitten, although I had a few close calls. I think you will find that most herpetologists are proud of their snakebite record - for the numbers of bites that AREN'T there. I have had only one bite in 34 years of handling venomous snakes.
Dave how did that happen and with what species? How were you treated and did you suffer after affects?
I think for most of us the most knowledge we have about dangerous snake handling is watching re-runs of the crocodile hunter on animal planet.
The species was a Taylor's cantil, a close relative of the cottonmouth, but as in many cases, it was a dry bite - no venom was injected. It was a case of not using the proper tool for the job. But daredevil approaches are not to be found among zoo keepers. When you are dealing with hundreds of dangerous animals of many different species for year after year, the odds are hard enough to stay ahead of without taking unnecessary risks. Imagine what would happen if firemen chose to throw away their tools and safety equipment and just run into burning buildings to save people. TV and real life are two very different things.
The species was a Taylor's cantil, a close relative of the cottonmouth, but as in many cases, it was a dry bite - no venom was injected. It was a case of not using the proper tool for the job.
Dave speaking of the proper tools what does one use when handling reptiles at the zoo? A snake hook like some of the folks on TV do and heavy gloves or? For us non-herpe folks its always interesting to sort through fact vs animal planet adventures we see demonstrated in relationship to dangerous reptiles.
Snake hooks are the most frequently used tools, although we also use snake tubes when we have to closely examine or take blood from a venomous snake. We also use custom-made shields when we need to do something like clean a water bowl. And of course face shields for spitting cobras. Some tools are so subtle the average person probably wouldn't notice them, such as the smooth-lined containers we put snakes into when we are cleaning cages. They slow fast-moving snakes like mambas down a little. Some zoos do use heavy gloves for small venomous snakes, but I would have trouble trusting them myself. Of course gloves are nice to have when dealing with Komodo dragons or big iguanas (the teeth of a male Grand Cayman blue iguana are surprisingly Komodo-like!).
I would like to introduce myself, My name is Ralph Wojtech. I grew up and live in NJ. And currently reside in the town of Bedminster, a semi rural area of 26 square miles and 8,000 folks about 35 miles from New York City. I enjoy living here because within a mile or so of mile house, it is basically all farms, fields and woods. In fact, Bedminster prides itself on being a "donut" of undeveloped land in a valley surrounded by the ever approaching Suburban sprawl!
For a living I work as an accountant for the "world's largest industrial gas company" I'll let you check up on who that might be. But I come by way of a recent acquisition of a company that I have worked for the past 22 years(where does that time go!) which was actually larger!
Why the IBWo and why now! Let me just start by saying that anyone who really knows me, knows that I am outdoor enthusiast, one who spends his free time heading for a long hike, Mountain biking , or fishing. But I tend to take things slow while out there as I enjoy just being outdoors, taking it all in. Taking up mountain biking was really an extention of my hiking , I just wanted to cover a greater area and see more of the "mountain" or trail and all the wildlife and plant life. I consider being outdoors "in the woods if you will" when Iam my most ease and happy. Except for being with my wife Xianhui,( I had better add that in case she reads my post!!!!)
Unlike work where there is always some deadline or rush to complete something I take the outdoors and nature at its own pace, and enjoy watching the seasons pass by slowly but inexiborably year after year.
My love of the outdoors started when I was young no more than 3 or 4. we lived by a large field and forest directly behind our house. We are probably talking about less than 30-50 acres, but to me just a small child it was so expansive, so much to do and explore. If was a different age then , and my Mother let me go out there for hours alone. I would spend my days with a coffee can and lid, catching grasshoppers , butterflies and crickets. At the end of each day I would release my "catch" and watch them all fly , crawl or hop away. The only bug I didnt like were "praying mantis" , I know cyberthrush your favorite! But for me they were scary and besides that they ate butterflies , and all my little friends!
When was 5 we moved to North Plainfield. I was really depressed because there were no fields there , just lots of houses. But I soon learned that in the small woods down the street from us was a brook(Crab Brook) full of frogs , fish , and an odd snapping turtle or two. Lots of things to keep a young lad busy with. In kindergarten I met my -soon to be best friend Tom and we spent the next 3 or 4 years merrily catching everthing that we could, and bring them home to our usually dismayed parents! I can remember one point where we could'nt fiqure out where all the frogs were coming from each year, until one day we got the nerve up to go around a heavily wooded and poison ivy filled area of the little stream and discovered to our delight a place full of pools and slow water filled with frogs and tadpoles. We didn't catch anything that day just spent our time exploring and being so happy over our good fortune! We had just found the motherlode! When we weren't in the hunt mode - we could be found making earthen dams across the stream and seeing how far the water would back up - eventually the dams would collapse causing to a tremendous flood of water downstream ! Pretty cool!
Well the years passed and the young boys eventually found new pursuits, baseball in my case, hockey in Tom's and the woods and frogs became a memory!
In fact , it was many years perhaps not until I was 30 or so, I began to realize there was a void in my life and I began to once again spend more times outdoors. I think that my "lost past" was re-awakened when I spent 10 days in Wyoming at Yellowstone and Montana in the Big Belt Mountains. I had forgotten how beautiful things in nature really are! I was really struck by this experience and I believe it changed me or perhaps I was ready for change! At the time I was living in Chicago and having a great time, lots of friends, volleyball and certainly too much beer! My life was all about work and fun afterwards , not really about anything else! I had some very good friends people I really cared about (and still do!) but I lived regrettably a very shallow life just focued on my little world!
I returned to NJ in 1997, because our Accounting center in Lisle IL, was being transferred into our Murray Hill offices. It was funny how things turn out - because although I struggled with the decision to move deep down I knew it was time for a change!
Once back, I refocused again on the outdoors and nature hiking mostly. It's not as if I hadn't kept up an interest in nature - I have had subscriptions to Discovery, National Geographic, Smithsonian for years not to mention, Popular Mechanics , Engineering , The Wall Street Journal ,Source Finance and Business Week ! Just that I hadn't taken active part in understanding nature!
I guees that brings us to the IBWO. I am really not sure where I first heard about the species. I believe it may have been during the 1980's as I distinctly remember reading an article in the backpages of the Smithsonian about the search! I can even remember seeing the black and white pictures taken by Tanner! But it could have been even earlier than that since I can distinctly remember hiking at Watchung Reservation in Nj and seing my first Pileated Woodpecker - I followed it for about a quarter mile or so - probably 5-10 minutes as it flew from tree to tree . It was huge and loud. And I remember thinking or maybe I wistfully imagined for a moment that it was an Ivory-billed , but then I realized there weren't ever any in NJ. I'm sure this was a late seventies or very early 80's experience.
Anyways, its getting late and maybe I will add to this post later but for now I just wanted to say for me personaly I think the IBWO and the search really represents the re-awkening of long held love and interest in nature. In the bigger sense and more public one I believe it is an opportunity to address a wrong committed by destroying a wonderful ecosyem . We have a second chance, (perhaps this is our third if you consider what happened to the Singer Tract) to make things right and save this bird and its habitat for future generations. I am very confident that we will find definitive proof that it does exist and that this will change everything!
Thanks for your wonderful introduction, Ralph, I have no doubt that many of the themes are intimately familiar to many of our members - the ever-expanding process of discovery of the natural world at a young age, the feeling of connection to a world that is real, deep, and in your bones, unlike the superficial clamor of modern life, the regret for losses and the hope for second chances. The forest will always beckon us, and the ivory-bill reminds us that it is not too late to fight the good fight.
Getting to know your fellow Researcher!
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