It’s a New Year’s tradition that I wholeheartedly embrace: Â the annual National Audubon Society Pinnacles area Christmas Bird Count.
Each year for more than a century, avid and not-so-avid birders have volunteered to attempt to count all the birds in regions across North America, from Key West to Prudhoe Bay. Â Each “count circle” is an area that’s deemed significant for some reason, 15 miles in diameter. Â Volunteers begin before dawn — owls, you know — and go through the day, tallying their finds on clipboards before assembling to compile data at a “countdown dinner.”
For many of you, a bird count conjures up images of dowdy spinsters dressed in funny clothes, exclaiming over “Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers.” Â And you might be partially right.
But the truth is that birding attracts people of all ages, genders and stripes. Â The more significant truth is that the counts replaced an earlier New Year’s tradition that called for going afield to shoot anything with wings. Â Moreover, the counts over time result in some very significant scientific data relating to population trends and the health of bird species across the continent.
A bird count involves significant commitment from the count compiler, who functions as the field marshall/cheerleader for the effort. Â Thus, the old Hollister count has gone the way of the Dodo. Â But there remain two counts in San Benito County: Panoche Valley (a nationally known destination among birders) and Pinnacles National Monument. Â The Pinnacles count was on Sunday, Dec. 30.
As is our practice, we participated. Â We stationed ourselves near the Willow Creek Corrals, off Highway 25 north of Pinnacles, well before sunup. Â Three Great-horned Owls called from the oaks.
It was cold, to be sure, and the day’s temperatures never nicked 50 degrees, but it was also glorious to be out on a winter’s morning. Â A nearly full moon was setting, lighting up scattered clouds. Â As the eastern sky brightened, the first songbirds began calling tentatively from the brush.
Throughout the day, we stopped along Airline Highway and Willow Creek Road — our assigned route — to listen, watch and jot notes. Â We enjoyed a picnic at Jefferson School, where we watched as a Ferruginous Hawk flew into the count area. Â Two Golden Eagles revealed themselves, along with a host of other raptors.
At the count dinner at the Best of Times Cafe in downtown Hollister, we learned that more than 100 species had been logged. Â Our tally for the day was 46 species.
Windburned and tired, many of the group were still clad in muddy boots and parkas as dinner was served. Â There were stories swapped and a few boasts made. Â Mostly, people enjoyed the warmth of shared company.
It’s said that more than 70 million Americans call themselves birders, from those who travel the world, binoculars in hand, with a single-minded focus, to those who hang a feeder outside the kitchen window. Â The counts attract those from across the spectrum. Â Those without the confidence to separate a Ruby-crowned Kinglet from a Hutton’s Vireo come to record sightings, and to learn more. Â The most dedicated plunge into the endeavor with the zeal of commandos on a mission.
The counts take place in every state, and always close to where people live, from mid-December until the first week of January. Â Because it brings people together, because it collects important information, and because it brings us outside and away from the holiday table at a time when we need it most, it’s a tradition that deserves to be observed in more families.
I can’t think of a better way to embrace San Benito County than the Pinnacles Christmas Count.
