Author Archives: William Freedberg

About William Freedberg

Studies indicate that Will Freedberg occupies the ecological niche of a semi-nocturnal generalist. His habits change seasonally, doing fieldwork and bird surveys in the summer, but also blogging, coordinating volunteers, taking photos, and doing background research. Life history traits include growing up in Boston and reluctantly graduating from Yale College. Behavioral research shows that William occasionally migrates to the tropics to seek out Hoatzins, pangolins, and sloths, but mostly socializes with his age cohort in urbanized areas of eastern North America. He is short-sighted, slow to react, and a poor swimmer.

Flyways: a poem for our lost birds by nature poet and new member, Hayley Kolding

Flyways

I lived a good life
and was reborn a sparrow.
Towhee-like
I scratched meals 
on the ground
with both feet
but mostly I flew,
threading a needle
through dense thickets,
wheeling in legions
above power lines.
My breast was streaked
white and brown,  
my bones  
an invention of light.
Crossing low alone
in clearings I felt 
I soared: 
then a pane of glass
in what had seemed  
a clearing.
So the reality
I meant only to pass through
contracted
to an instant 
and killed me.

God had mercy
and remade me as
a blackbird. 
In the marsh
it was sweet:
I built my nest,
wove a wet cup
about the cattails.
The walls
were bur-reed and rush
the bed inside
grass dry and soft. And oh
I loved the brood
with eyes tight shut.
For my baby
seed of the field,
damselflies
for my baby. But you
do not grow fat–
I paired again,
my mate distinguished
by song:
a choking,
scraping noise
made with much
apparent effort.

Expiring
without legacy
I begged to still
be winged An ivory
gull A plover
A thrush
And mercy
was endless
As a guillemot
I returned
starving slick
in my own color
as murre in
Alaska I starved
as one penguin
of 40,000
Then God blessed me
at last I was a sea bird
in Australia I floated
in the water
I ate everything
the world gave me
And then I was full
O Heaven Then
I realized my need
could not be met


There is an emotional toll, for birders and nature-lovers, in reading so frequently about the scale of bird declines. Summaries of recent scientific papers, updates on population trends, and calls to action can fail to address the sadness and loss readers feel at more bad news. These reactions are just as real as the ecological damage that provokes them, and scholars increasingly recognize them as “ecological grief.” For all the successes of conservation movements, the declines of many species continues unabated, and each feels like a defeat.

Kolding approaches these defeats from a bird’s perspective— in fact, from the perspective of several birds. She treats an indefinite number of birds killed by human activity as reincarnations of one consciousness, condensing a wide and complex range of conservation threats into a linear, tragic story. In so doing, Kolding’s poem resists the treatment of bird deaths as statistics.

While this poem takes ample (and poetically necessary) liberties in ascribing feelings to birds, its poignance is grounded by accurate natural history details and descriptions of real threats. The last passage (“I ate everything the world gave me/ And then I was full… Then I realized/ my need could not be met”) both describes a complex emotion— the dread of living in an unsurvivable world, or of asking in vain for what you need— while also reflecting the reality of how some seabirds die. Plastic pollution kills seabirds because they eat indigestible plastic debris, which accumulates inside them until they starve with a full stomach. (Plastic in the ocean smells like food to seabirds because it grows the same algae as decomposing fish).

In each of Kolding’s vignettes, she frames a scientist’s perspective on birds with a poet’s sensitivity and imagination. The result is a both refreshing and profoundly sad approach to thinking about conservation losses.

Tropical Storm Isaias doused Massachusetts in Sooty Terns—and one is still around

Tropical Storm Isaias arrived in Massachusetts on August 4, 2020, pushing heavy wind and rain through the Berkshires in the early evening before continuing northward. The storm also brought a slew of rare seabirds into the state, with sightings of at least 34 Sooty Terns, 2 Brown Boobies, a Franklin’s Gull, and a handful of other rarities on inland lakes as well as on the coast. This event was part of a rare but regular pattern of vagrant birds associated with hurricanes and tropical storms.

A close up of a hillside

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Sooty Terns rarely come ashore except to breed on islands in the tropics. Photo: USFWS/Duncan Wright

All hurricanes and strong tropical storms in Massachusetts have the potential to carry vagrant birds with them. Generally, the best sightings come in the wake of storms that spend time offshore over the Gulf Stream, before weakening or dissipating over southern New England.

But storms that hug the coast from the southwest can also carry exciting birds. Most storms are big enough that even if their center sits over the New Jersey or New York coast, violent southerly winds sweep from the Gulf Stream into southern New England. This was certainly the case with Isaias, as seen in the wind speed graphic below.

(image via EarthWindMap)

From here, Isaias tacked directly inland through the Berkshires, making it a great candidate for delivering pelagic species to large inland lakes. Indeed, while there were some reports of strong pelagic birding from coastal sites like Gooseberry Neck in Westport, there were equally exciting reports from Wachusett Reservoir, Quabbin Reservoir, and even smaller lakes in the Berkshires. Sooty Terns, Phalaropes, Jaegers, and shorebirds dropped onto many large bodies of water throughout the state.

Stronger storms in the past have produced even more spectacular results. In 2011, Hurricane Irene brought an incredible variety of seabirds into Connecticut and Massachusetts. and resulted in at least one eBird checklist from Quabbin Reservoir that reported a Sooty Tern, an incredible White-tailed Tropicbird, a Leach’s Storm-Petrel, and more.

Often, storm-blown birds arrive at inland sites in bad shape. Many perish, and some return to their offshore or coastal habitats. Very few stick around for several days.

Remarkably, one Sooty Tern that appeared during Isaias has hung around on Wachusett Reservoir. The bird was reported feeding actively as of August 13th, more than a week after the storm, probably taking advantage of the reservoir’s abundant smelt. Smelt resemble Sooty Terns’ favored marine baitfish—mostly clupeiformes—in the subtropical Atlantic. This makes it the longest-lingering storm-driven Sooty Tern in Massachusetts, and quite possibly, in New England. It may leave any day now, and in fact, it’s likely to depart sooner rather than later. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s worth looking for!

Warmer springs mean birds breed earlier—but also on tighter schedules

Climate change is not only shifting the breeding season for northern forest birds, but it is also shortening it for some, according to a 43-year study co-authored by a UMass Amherst ecologist.

The study examined 73 species of boreal birds in Finland, but the results reflect patterns in bird observations from other parts of the world as well.

Ecologists have shown how climate change effects birds’ ranges, as well as the timing of some of the key phases in their lives. For background, many birds of the Northeastern US will experience range shifts (many of which are already underway) as global temperatures increase, according to models in Mass Audubon’s 2017 State of the Birds report. Climate change tends to affect birds’ ranges by moving their habitat or food supply further north or to higher elevations. While birds are somewhat temperature-sensitive, the plants and insects they rely on tend to respond much more sharply to changing conditions, bringing the birds with them.

Climate change will alter Massachusetts’ forests suitability for Ovenbirds between 2017 and 2050. (Source: Mass Audubon’s 2017 State of the Birds report.)

Other long-term studies have shown that seasonal peaks in insect abundance no longer line up with the arrival of migratory birds that feed on them— and that other factors, like weather patterns, make it difficult for birds to change their schedules accordingly.

But the new 43-year study from Finland is the first to look at the duration of the breeding period from start to end. Around a third of species examined by researchers showed some shortening of their breeding period. Most of the study species started or ended breeding slightly earlier.

At first glance, a reader might worry about the third of birds that breed on an accelerated schedule, and assume that the other two-thirds of species were unaffected. Indeed, the study noted that shorter breeding periods increased competition among individuals of a species— for example, by synchronizing the times that adults were arriving or that chicks were hatching and leaving the nest.

But that’s only part of the problem. In fact, the species that showed no indication of changing their breeding schedule may be cause for greater conservation concern. Just because only some birds are adapting to a shorter “ideal” breeding period doesn’t mean that other birds aren’t feeling the squeeze; other species could be failing to adapt to changing conditions, even if they face the same challenges. The study’s authors pointed out that most of the birds with a curtailed breeding season are either short-distance migrants or year-round residents. Long-distance migrants— whose breeding schedule showed fewer changes— are less able to adjust their migration and breeding dates because of constraints at stopover sites or wintering areas.

Take a Climate Pledge

Climate change affects so much more than birds. Everything from pollinators that maintain food crops, to shellfish and ocean ecosystems, to the cities we live in are facing new climate-related threats.

We can help when we come together to act on climate! It’s easy to reduce your personal carbon footprint by taking one of our climate pledges to commit to greener transportation, sustainable eating habits, or easing pressure on the energy grid when demand is highest. While advocacy, activism, and systemic change are also key to stopping climate change, adjusting our consumption habits is an excellent first step to protect the planet we love.  

Our Sanctuaries Need Your eBird Reports

As we begin to again safely visit our wonderful system of Mass Audubon sanctuaries, this post is a reminder of how you can contribute to our knowledge of birds at these sites. Mass Audubon uses eBird data as part of bird monitoring and inventory efforts, and visitors’ observations help demonstrate how birds use the places we protect. The more information we have, the more we can bolster bird populations amid changing climate conditions and surrounding land use. Your observations help us help birds!

Mass Audubon has updated guidelines for submitting sanctuary observations to eBird, some of which may be new even for experienced eBirders. Most importantly, we ask that, unless you are contributing to a specific project, eBirders only submit sightings under the most general eBird hotspot for each sanctuary, instead of using latitude/longitude coordinates or specific locations within each sanctuary.

Click here for a beginner’s guide to contributing sightings on eBird!

Loons Return to Plymouth County after a Century-Long Absence

Fast on the heels of Bald Eagles’ exciting return to Cape Cod, another iconic species of the north has recolonized Southeastern Massachusetts after more than a hundred years’ hiatus. This summer, Common Loons are raising chicks in Plymouth County for the first time since at least 1872.

It started with an oil spill

A pair of Common Loons in Maine, the birthplace of most of Massachusetts’ reintroduced loons. Photo by Will Freedberg.

Loons used to be common in some of the deep, clear lakes of Plymouth County until the 19th century, when sport hunting and state-sponsored extermination programs removed them from the state entirely. While loons that breed in New Hampshire and Maine spend winters off the Massachusetts coast, it wasn’t until 1975 that they started nesting here again. In fact, Massachusetts is the only state where loons have returned of their own volition, and they now number over 100 birds—but only in the north-central and western parts of the state.

Strong, proactive environmental laws are enabling loons’ renewal to this part of their original range. The male of the Plymouth County pair arrived as part of a reintroduction program, funded by a legal settlement over a Buzzard’s Bay oil spill.

In 2003, the population of overwintering loons in Buzzards Bay took a hit when an oil barge spilled 100,000 gallons of oil into the water after striking a rock. The spill killed over 1,000 marine birds (the total loss, accounting for those birds’ future contributions to their populations, is closer to 20,000 birds). 

Under the Oil Pollution Act of 1990, the barge company had to pay to clean up its mess. (At the time, the Migratory Bird Treaty Act also required that companies pay to restore any birds they accidentally killed, whether or not an oil spill was involved). Some of the funds went towards habitat protection, lead fishing tackle cleanups, and artificial nest sites in areas with existing populations. But there’s no easy way to quickly replace 530 Common Loons, especially when it’s not clear which breeding areas the dead birds came from.

So, the remainder of the funds went towards facilitating loons’ return to places they had historically occupied by translocating “excess” birds from upstate New York and Maine. When loons have two chicks, one often outcompetes the other, which is less likely to survive—making the second chick a great candidate for captive rearing.

Giving loons a head start

Local loon reintroduction efforts formally began in 2015, when the Biodiversity Research Institute began raising loon chicks in captivity in partnership with state wildlife agencies. For the next few years, they managed to release around eight young-adult loons annually into unoccupied, good-quality habitat in Massachusetts.

The project’s success would only become clear a few years later. Young loons don’t breed until they reach several years of age, spending at least the first three years of their life at sea. The marine areas they use as juveniles continue to be their wintering grounds as lake-breeding adults.

While one of the (now fully-grown) male loons has returned to the Plymouth County lake where it was raised for the past couple of years, it was joined by a fully wild female in the spring of 2020. Their chick— the first of what will hopefully be many to come out of the translocation effort—was spotted a few weeks later.

Strong conservation laws yield results

In this case, loons’ reintroduction into southeastern Massachusetts was part of a larger vision for restoring public resources—from fisheries, to swimming beaches, to migratory birds—after they were accidentally damaged by a private company.

But were the damage to bird populations not caused by an oil spill or other pollution that affected people’s health, only the MBTA could have been used as a legal tool to require that a company make amends. Now, that framework is gone—and the current administration’s decision may soon become difficult to overturn

Birders have already observed several other loons from the reintroduction project at different sites across eastern Massachusetts. If you see a loon with a leg band, or on fresh water inside of route 495, let us know in the comments!

Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places: The Woodcocks of Alewife Reservation

American Woodcocks appear to be thriving at the Alewife Reservation in Cambridge, an urban wild sandwiched between office complexes and a subway garage. Despite the myriad dangers of city life, up to a dozen woodcocks perform their aerial mating displays over Alewife every March.

Resilience against the odds

Alewife is awash in threats to these hapless birds. Peregrine Falcons occasionally snag woodcocks in midair as they hunt along the clifflike walls of a brutalist-era parking garage. The expansive glass façade of the recently-expanded office park looms over the adjacent greenspace, causing fatal window collisions. Feral cats prowl around the urban wetland’s thickets. Heavy metals and pollutants from long ago still linger in the soil.

At Alewife, small patches of woodlands, wetlands, and fields persist amid urban infrastructure and new development.

And yet, at least a handful of woodcocks return here every year. In early spring, they give their explosive, nasal calls at dusk, leap into the sky, and twist and turn in midair to attract a mate. Once paired off, they nest and raise young in nearby woodlands.

Is it a trap?

It’s worth considering that this urban wild might be what’s known as an “population sink,” or “ecological trap.”

An ecological trap is any low-quality habitat where more birds die than can successfully reproduce, but which attracts birds even when there’s safer places for them nearby. Traps can appear to have a stable population of birds, when in fact most of those birds die before being replaced as more birds are lured in from safe areas.

A population sink, on the other hand, doesn’t necessarily attract birds more than areas with suitable habitat. Rather, birds end up there as “overflow,” when better territories are fully occupied or made inaccessible. Sinks don’t cause as steep declines, but do put a cap on the birds that can successfully reproduce in an area.

So, it’s entirely possible that Alewife isn’t doing the woodcock population any favors. No woodcock nests have been found in the area, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re failing to reproduce.

Brushy fields are all you need

Whether or not Alewife is a net plus or minus for its resident woodcocks, data from the rest of the country show that habitat availability is the main factor limiting woodcock abundance.

The strange, lumpy, long-billed form of an American Woodcock (Scolopax minor). Photo: Will Freedberg

Woodcocks love fields with low, woody brush, and adjacent mature forest. They display in springtime over open, grassy areas, but need some cover—ideally patches of shrubs or grass 2’-5’ high—for shelter. They use forest to forage during the rest of the year, especially when they’re raising young.

Without disturbance, either by fire, mowing, or agriculture, brushy fields revert to forest in a couple of decades. This is the story of woodcock habitat across Massachusetts: most ex-farmland has reverted to forest. Remaining fields are farmed more intensively, leaving less and less brushy patches and edge habitat, and fallow fields are becoming rarer.

Mass Audubon’s Foresters for the Birds program is emphasizing the value of young forest and shrubland habitat for birds. By educating foresters and landowners on bird-friendly forestry practices, we’re trying to create more habitat for woodcocks and other young forest specialists.

Great Shearwater © Peter Flood

Keynote at This Sunday’s Birders Meeting: Peter Marra

Birders Meeting Logo

Do you remember the paper on bird declines that made global headlines last fall? Its lead author, Pete Marra, will be speaking on the science behind bird migration at this Sunday’s Birder’s Meeting.

Marra’s studies have helped guide bird conservation priorities for the past 20 years, in part through his work at the Smithsonian Institution and Georgetown University.

This Sunday, we’ll get to hear him discuss new discoveries on how, why, and where birds make long-distance journeys—and why it may not be too late to save some of North America’s most imperiled migrants.

Great Shearwater © Peter Flood

Other speakers will follow the theme of bird migration:

  • Mariamar Gutierrez will take us through the ways in which new technologies can help us track and understand migrant birds’ movements.
  • Sean Williams, ornithology professor and one of Massachusetts’ top birders, will discuss the best hotspots for seeing big numbers of Spring migrants.
  • Speakers on Chimney Swifts (Margaret Rubgea– UConn), shearwaters (Kevin Powers–FWS), window strikes (Will Freedberg– Mass Audubon) and more!

Of course, there will be a number of other draws in addition to speakers. We’ll have a vendors area staffed by nature tour agencies, booksellers, and local bird-related companies. A number of raffle items will include field guides, bird feeders, and other birding goodies. Most importantly, there’s the chance to meet new community members, catch up with old friends, and stay up to date on news in the Massachusetts birding world.

Attend the Event

Whether you come out to learn, socialize, or both, we hope you’ll join us this year!

The 2020 Birders Meeting will take place on Sunday, March 8 from 8 am-4:30 pm, at College of the Holy Cross in Worcester.

Get your ticket >

Dial-a-Bird: A Tribute to the Voice of Audubon

Before the internet age, informational phone lines were widespread— providing everything from weather forecasts, time of day, or even local rare bird alerts.

Mass Audubon started the original bird hotline in 1954 with some help from a telecom executive, Henry Parker, who happened to be an avid birder.

In fact, the system that Parker developed for the Voice of Audubon came before the widespread use of phone hotlines. The Dictaphone-based system he gave Mass Audubon eventually became the basis for other users to pre-record airline schedules, theater showtimes, and other, more general-interest uses.

The rarities hotline, called “The Voice of Audubon” or VoA, reduced the need for staff to recite sightings to every birder who asked—making it as much a boon for Mass Audubon as for the hundreds of birders calling in each week.

Making the Papers

Shortly after its introduction, the Voice of Audubon was incorporated every week into a bird sightings column in the Boston Globe.

Initially, non-birder Globe interns had to transcribe the bulletin entirely by ear, leading to some amusing misspellings of bird names—such as “wobbling vireos” instead of “Warbling Vireos, “dowagers” instead of dowitchers,” “dick sizzles” instead of “Dickcissels,” and a “pair of green falcons” instead of a “Peregrine Falcon.” Eventually, a written transcript was made available to anyone interested in printing the week’s bird sightings.

A group of photographers respond to a report of a rarity, in this case a Great Gray Owl in southern New Hampshire. Always be respectful of vagrant birds– particularly owls and waterbirds– by not approaching them.

Changing Tastes

The Voice of Audubon became a wildly popular model, with similar call-in lines eventually cropping up in most US states. The nationwide rare bird alert even made it in the birding-centric Hollywood movie, The Big Year.

Email changed everything for birding hotlines. With the advent of the listserv, or email message board, call-ins to the Voice of Audubon began to decrease.

Listservs went out of vogue when eBird emerged on the scene, revolutionizing how birders reported their observations. Still, some preferred listservs for the opportunity to discuss sightings in addition to reporting them, for the way listserv conversations build community, and for the ease of reporting a sighting in text rather than via online form. These needs have also come to be addressed by Facebook groups for bird sightings, adding another medium vying for birders’ time and information.

Standing the Test of Time

Through it all, the Voice of Audubon has held firm as a resource for birders, even as it’s call-ins have declined since the heyday of the 1960s and 70s.

Continuing to publish the VoA serves a dual purpose. Firstly, it informs birders who don’t have access to a computer or who prefer the hotline format. Perhaps more importantly, its existence and regular publication in newspapers serves to raise the public profile of birdwatching among the general public.

Do you ever call the Voice of Audubon (781-259-8805), read it in the Sunday Globe, or check out the sightings on our website? Let us know in the comments!

Do Vagrant Birds Indicate a Changing Climate?

It’s been an incredible past few weeks for rare birds in Massachusetts. First, a Purple Gallinule showed up in Milton. Then a White-faced Ibis arrived in Sterling, and a Tropical Kingbird shocked birders in Belmont—the first ever to be seen in Middlesex County. Finally, the first Pacific-Slope Flycatcher seen anywhere in the state was spotted in Hadley, and a Western Kingbird and Rufous Hummingbird rounded out the glut of unusual visitors.

More than 2,000 miles from home, this boldly-colored Tropical Kingbird in Belmont made birding headlines.

It’s tempting to think that these out-of-range birds (or “vagrants”) are the result of climate change. Although climate change certainly affects species’ normal ranges, and may make vagrancy more common and extreme, it’s a reach to say that these “lost” birds themselves indicate any larger trends.

Instead, these birds are just as likely examples of species that only show in Massachusetts every several hundred years. This phenomenon of once-in-a-lifetime birds has plenty of precedent. Consider, for example, the first time a Masked Duck was seen in Massachusetts was in 1889—and the species hasn’t been reported in New England since. Similarly, the first and only record of a Brewer’s Sparrow was in 1873, and the first and only record of a White-tailed Kite was in 1910.

Vagrants: Unpredictable in Predictable Ways

As fall migration draws to a close, there’s almost always a spike in vagrant birds in Massachusetts. Birds from the interior southwest of the US ride winds blowing northeast, often making it as far as the coast.

Many bird populations contain a few individuals prone to wandering. In some cases, wanderers are biologically hard-wired to migrate differently than others of their species, and in other cases, the cause is unknown. These outliers aren’t unique to migratory species; even flightless penguins have been documented walking into the icy mountains of Antarctica, far from any food source.

Most vagrants either perish or (less often) make it back to their home ranges. Even if the vast majority of these birds don’t manage to reproduce on terra incognita, some scientists theorize that having a few exploratory or mis-oriented individuals gives the species an evolutionary advantage. This may allow a population to very occasionally colonize new, faraway areas that turn out to be hospitable, serving as a bulwark against sudden cataclysmic change across its entire normal range.

Climate Affects Vagrants, But Vagrants Aren’t Necessarily Climate Indicators

Fall isn’t the only time when wind patterns regularly bring Massachusetts a handful of unusual birds. Southern birds that overshoot their breeding grounds in spring are mostly the result of wind patterns that blow them far over the Atlantic, where they continue north until making landfall in New England. Even more noticeable are the hurricanes that have brought tropical seabirds like Sooty Terns and Red-billed Tropicbirds inland into Massachusetts.

As rising global temperatures create stronger storms and shift continental wind currents, it’s reasonable to think that new patterns in bird vagrancy will emerge. This doesn’t mean, however, that recent “firsts” (such as last month’s Pacific-slope Flycatcher or Tropical Kingbird) are indicators of climate change– especially with only 200 years of records and a long list of vagrants that showed up in the 18th century and never again.

Demonstrating an increase in vagrant birds (or changes in where they show up) is a tricky proposition, in part because there’s no good way to adjust for how many people are looking. Not only has the number of birders increased dramatically since the 19th century, but birders’ knowledge of how to predict vagrants has improved—and their interest in finding them has intensified. This complicates studying patterns in bird vagrancy, let alone linking them to long-term climate trends.

29% of America’s Birds Are Gone. What Are We Doing About It?

“Species extinctions have defined the global biodiversity crisis, but extinction begins with loss in abundance of individuals” —Rosenberg et al., Decline of the North American Avifauna (2019)

So begins the first comprehensive review of bird population trends since the mid-20th century. Summaries of the study are available via the New York Times and NPR.

The results were unequivocal: 76% of all bird species in the US are declining, some precipitously. Compiling on-the ground data from Breeding Bird Atlases revealed that the total number of birds in the US has fallen by 29% since 1970. Some groups fared worse than other over the five decades in question: shorebirds were down 37%, warblers were down by 33%, and aerial insectivores were down by 32%. And the total volume of birds in the sky, as detected by the national weather radar, was down 14% in the last ten years alone.

Rusty Blackbirds, an inconspicuous, clear-eyed relative of the more common Red-winged, underwent a population crash of over 93% over the past several decades. They are now rare enough that monitoring them is difficult.

This is bad news. Really bad news. But it’s possible to fight, and it’s even reversible. Scientists and conservation professionals have time-tested and proven strategies for stemming the tide of ecological decline, and the only obstacles are funding, public interest, and political will.

Mass Audubon continues to take a multi-pronged, species-specific approach to mitigate the damage in our state. Here are a few of the solutions we’ve already mobilized:

Habitat protection

Birds simply can’t exist without bird habitat. We protect 36,000 acres of bird habitat in Massachusetts through direct ownership, and another 6,000 through “conservation restrictions” and other legal protections against development.

We’ve recorded 149 species of bird breeding & raising their young on our wildlife sanctuaries– over two thirds of the total species in the state.

Landowner Partnerships

Where we can’t protect land through direct purchase, we find ways to ensure that it’s being used in bird-friendly ways. Many grassland species have healthy populations on agricultural land, and agricultural practices can make or break their prospects for survival. The same goes for forest birds living on land actively managed for timber; birds and forestry can coexist where sustainable practices are applied.

Mass Audubon encourages bird-friendly agriculture through projects like the Bobolink Project, incentivizing landowners to delay mowing hayfields until after Bobolinks and other grassland birds have completed nesting. The project compensates landowners directly for any profits lost due to delayed mowing, and the compensation fund is 100% donor-supported. In 2018, we saved more than 1,000 Bobolink fledglings from going under the mower.

Similarly, our Foresters for the Birds program pushes a bird-friendly approach to forestry in Massachusetts. One of our sanctuaries even acts as a demonstration site for how sustainable forestry and bird habitat go hand in hand.

Direct Habitat Management

Mass Audubon is directly responsible for managing between 40-50% of Piping Plovers (a federally Endangered species) in Massachusetts, a state with 1/3 of the Atlantic Coast population. We also are responsible for 20% of the state’s American Oystercatchers, and 40% of its Least Terns.

Since 1986, Piping Plovers have rebounded from 135 pairs to 680 pairs.

While the Cornell study showed shorebirds declining on a continental scale, conservationists in Massachusetts have known that shorebirds were in trouble since the middle of the last century. That’s why Mass Audubon developed our Coastal Waterbird Program to protect shorebirds through management, conservation, policy development, and education.

Science-based Advocacy

In the past year alone, Mass Audubon petitioned for three species to receive special legal protections from the state: Eastern Meadowlarks, Saltmarsh Sparrows, and American Kestrels. These petitions were based on our own monitoring of these species’ populations, which are in particular trouble and require intervention, as well as growing consensus among ornithologists.

We also speak up when legal frameworks for protecting birds are under attack. The rollback of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act last year was a major setback for bird conservation, and we spoke up.

Fight the decline with your donation today >