Date: 1/7/25 7:24 pm From: Ed Yong via groups.io <edyong209...> Subject: [EBB-Sightings] An Almost Fully Documented Alameda Birding Year
By now, I hope you’ve all read Whitney Grover’s wonderful and thorough account ( https://groups.io/g/EBB-Sightings/message/17309 ) of her epic Alameda big year, in which she saw 283 species. I wanted to share my own parallel experience, which has a little twist.
After moving to the Bay Area in the spring of 2023, I started birding that summer and fell into it *hard*. I started 2024 with the simple intention of seeing new birds, but ended up doing a big-ish year and trying to see as many species as I could in Alameda County.
I finished the year with *280* —3 fewer than the mighty Whitney (who I ended up birding with a lot) but a number that I didn’t think was even remotely possible a year ago. Of those 280 birds, *52* were lifers!
But along the way, I also set myself a secondary goal: *Document every species that I listed with either a photo or a recording*.
I’m happy to say that I *almost* did it. I photographed 271 species and recorded 6 more. My only failures were: common poorwill, which I heard clearly and repeatedly at Mines Road but always too faintly for my phone to pick up; Lawrence’s goldfinch, which I saw with Alex Henry and Sharon Jue, but which flew away too quickly and which I never refound despite many attempts; and clay-colored sparrow, which I saw with Whitney two hours after I dropped my camera and smashed my brand-new lens.
That folder contains the best single photo I have for each species. They vary wildly in quality. Some I want to put on my wall (black skimmer!!). Some are really there for the sake of completion. And two—American redstart and pileated woodpecker—are personal favorites because they’re hilariously bad and yet still identifiable. They may be 1-star photos on eBird but they’re 5-star photos in my heart.
The documentation goal became almost as important as the main see-everything one for at least three reasons.
First, I think photography is a *fantastic* learning tool for birding. Trying to get a good shot of a bird (especially without shenanigans like playback) forces you to cue into behavior, and it allows you to study field marks after the fact. It also shows you how easily your senses can betray you, and how readily you will see what you want to see. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I had spotted a certain bird only to correct myself upon checking the photos later. For this newbie, photography was also instrumental in appreciating how hard bird ID can be. I knew it would be challenging, but I never imagined that you could take a decent well-lit shot of a bird, show it to many experienced birders, and still struggle to get a decisive ID—and yes, I’m talking about empids and gulls, but there was also a memorable incident involving a putative Baird’s sandpiper that turned out to be a juvenile sanderling.
Second, and relatedly, I found myself getting frustrated by a lack of documentation. I used eBird extensively and when I was starting out, I’d assume that if I couldn’t find a bird someone had reported, it was because I sucked. But over time, I realized that I had a pretty decent odds of finding birds someone else had reported, and that those odds were considerably higher if I was chasing reports with photos, which I think says something. I’m not here to tell anyone how to bird and I know cameras are expensive and cumbersome. But here’s how I’ve come to think about it. Birding is a more social endeavor than I initially thought. I rely on other people’s eBird reports. I know others rely on mine. It behooves me to make those reports as solid as possible, because they might well affect how a stranger spends her time (and gas). And for me, solidity involves documentation, especially given the aforementioned fallibility of our senses.
Third, and most importantly, it was really fun! This challenge forced me to pay attention to common birds. Sure, seeing a summer tanager is exhilarating, but can you take a killer shot of a female house finch? Photography tickles a slightly different part of my brain than birding does, so I could have terrible birding days and excellent photography and vice versa, with each hobby regularly picking up the slack for the other. For me, documentation never detracts from birding, and often enhances it.
I’m still new to birding and to photography, which I picked up at the same time, so I’m excited to see what 2025 brings. For now, I want to thank all the people who welcomed me into this world and gave me tips and advice. Birding has changed my life, and I’m profoundly grateful for it.
