The following VERY long communication is intended for those with a history and/or an interest in the maintenance of the ornithological record for Kentucky. Some readers will find a lot of it of no interest to them. It contains some history and perspective on the keeping of bird records by various members of the Ky. Ornithological Society, as well as an apology from me for some of my shortcomings in serving as the most recent “record-keeper.” I assumed a partial role in the record-keeping process as a co-author of the “Annotated Checklist of the Birds of Kentucky” (1988). Since that time attrition has been largely responsible for placing more responsibility of the task on me, although as many know I have been dedicated to and for the most part enjoy the process. Read on to the extent you care to ... or just hit delete! This appears now because of a relatively recent post to BIRDKY that caused a negative blow to my psyche. That resulted in me revisiting some narrative I drafted more than a year ago but have never seen to completion. I repeat the recent BIRDKY post from Melissa Easley here: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - From: Melissa Easley To: BIRDKY Date: Fri, 30 May 2014 Hap and I birded the Obion bottoms of Fulton Co. this morning off in a flooded field off of Salmon Rd. The following highlights made for an exciting excursion: Blue-wing teal (3) Semipalmated plover (10) Semipalmated sandpiper (33) Least sandpiper (105) White-rumped sandpiper (2) Least tern (4) Swainson's warbler (1)heard a perfect rendition of their song in a woody swampy area on the right just before the bridge Willow flycatcher (2) We also observed four Mississippi kites over Long Point. Melissa and Hap Murray, Ky. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - What in the world about that post could cause someone great discomfort? I actually would expect only one other BIRDKY reader besides me to even take note of the abnormally high count of Least Sandpipers in Kentucky on the extremely “late” spring date of the 30th of May. The high count of Least’s, especially relative to the lower number of Semipalmated Sandpipers, is actually quite an extraordinary thing, and one that I subsequently queried Melissa about, thinking it must be incorrect. She replied with the following: “We waded mud to get good looks with our scopes. It seemed at first that all were leasts, but as we honed in on the flock, we discovered the presence of a lesser number of semi sands and plovers. It took us by surprise, but if there is one shorebird we know, it is the leasts. In contrast with the semi sands they were smaller, with a browner color on back and breast, and yellow legs.” As an unofficial “record-keeper” for the Ky. Ornithological Society, this represented to my knowledge only the second time that such a disproportionately high number of Least Sandpipers had been reported so late during May in Kentucky. Melissa’s description sounded accurate, and provided me with more substantiation than had accompanied the first sighting, and it caused me to immediately revisit my decision not to “accept” the previous report from the *exact* same location back on 20 May 1999. The first report had been unprecedented in the region based on my experience with both the published literature and my own field observations. Every year, just like clockwork, the Least Sandpipers that predominate during the first two and a half weeks of May are suddenly replaced by similar numbers of Semipalmated Sandpipers as spring migrants. So although I was uncomfortable with excluding the 1999 report (which was by perhaps the state’s most skilled birder, I might add) from the 2nd edition of the “Annotated Checklist of the Birds of Kentucky,” I finally made the difficult choice to omit it. If record-keepers such as myself are doing a good job of watching over the compilation of a set of records, we are presented with such scenarios on way more occasions than most would realize, especially in the world of birds where most reports are based only on sight records instead of photos or specimens. Many times we reflect on past experiences with reliable observers and “give them the benefit of the doubt,” but occasionally we just feel “queasy” enough with the details of a report – and feel as though out of respect for consistent treatment of all observers, not just the most skilled individuals (who are regularly shown to make at least occasional mistakes like everybody else) – that we make a difficult choice not to include it in a published summary. Such is the uncomfortable position of the record-keeper who attempts to do a credible and consistent job of reviewing, assessing, and seeing to the publication in perpetuity of hundreds and hundreds of “sight” records by dozens and dozens of observers with greatly varying skill levels each year. But always within the province of such record-keepers is the ability to revisit a decision and alter it. Such will be the case with the 20 May 1999 report of 1000 Least Sandpipers in the Upper Hickman Bottoms of Fulton County. Another such scenario recently presented itself to me during the unprecedented flight of White-winged Scoters into the state. This winter’s irruption would seemingly assign credibility to a January 1971 report of 40 White-winged Scoters on the Ohio River above Meldahl Dam. I never knew much about that report by an Ohio birder about whom I could not find any information when I attempted to assess the report in the late 1990s. Being unprecedented at the time, that report (which had been published in “American Birds”) was listed as “unaccepted” in the 2nd edition of the “Annotated Checklist.” However, the winter of 1970-1971 was similarly cold to this past winter, and also resulted in one of two Kentucky reports of which I am aware of King Eider (shot by a hunter on the Ohio River near Cincinnati). I believe this winter’s scoter flight supports the January 1971 report enough to now include it with other notable counts. It would be easy to say “well there’s a first time for everything” and just accept without critical review unprecedented reports. However, the consistency in patterns of occurrence exhibited by birds more typically amaze those who study such things, and established patterns of occurrence are really one of the most useful tools a record-keeper has in attempting to maintain a credible data set. Birds have wings and they have demonstrated over and over again that they can show up most anywhere at any time, but patterns of occurrence are rules that are typically followed by birds rather than regularly violated. The point of the previous discussion is to highlight that decisions about individual reports like a flock of Least Sandpipers or White-winged Scoters are just tiny pieces of a very complex and very difficult process one puts his or herself in the middle of if one attempts to maintain a credible data set of reports. I have placed myself squarely within that realm for about 25 years now, a role actually seldom relished due to the several types of anxiety that are associated with it. Every single time I omit a report that I think might have credibility it bothers me, because I know I’m sometimes leaving out a good report. But I always tell myself that I’d rather leave out a good report than include an erroneous one. And as frustrating as it can be, there are just a lot of times when the credibility of a report is simply not certain. Unfortunately, some relatively recent challenges to my enthusiasm for serving in this role have caused me even greater angst than normal, and have resulted in the following very lengthy digression that provides more background on the evolution of this situation in Kentucky and an open apology to many people for some of the places it has led me (being the imperfect human being that I am) ... My beginnings ... My interest in birds began back in the early 1970s when I first noticed the birds my parents were feeding in the back yard. I can’t actually recall whether it was my mom or my dad who recognized the most species, but they both taught me the common birds that were regulars in our yard. Before I ever got to keeping notes, I remember sorting out the fact that the immature White-crowned Sparrows were not a different species from the adults even though they looked different. My first passion for nature actually involved the wildflowers that bloomed in the woods on our farm in the early spring; one day on the way back to the woods, we drove past an odd bird sitting on the barbed wire fence; it had a white belly, a black back, and an obvious white tip to its tail. What could this strange bird that I’d never noticed before be? That Eastern Kingbird was, in retrospect, *the* bird that caused me to delve deeper into birds and launched me on the path that has ended up – for better or for worse – dominating my life. The sister of a good friend of my dad’s heard of my blossoming interest in birds and gave me a fateful membership in the Beckham Bird Club in 1972. During the fall of 1972 I began taking crude notes on the birds I was seeing, and I went on my first bird club field trip. My mom and I were amazed at how the birdwatchers in the group seemed to know every sound and could identify birds from the slightest glimpse. We even made a little fun of the manner in which they tiptoed along the woods edge in pursuit of their quarry. Back in my early days, I was mentored by one of the kindest and most unselfish people I have ever met, Anne Stamm. She and her husband, Fred, drove me to many a bird club outing until I got my own car. I’m sure it was Anne’s dedication to the study of birds of her beloved Kentucky that rubbed off on me and has resulted in my own interests being so provincial. As far as I could tell, Anne was also the primary ambassador for the Kentucky Ornithological Society; she seemed to be involved in everything the Society was doing and was singly responsible for several aspects of its goings-on. At that time, Anne was also the primary person who kept track of sightings for the Kentucky Ornithological Society’s files. She also compiled a quarterly report of Kentucky’s interesting bird observations that she submitted to a national journal called (at the time) “American Birds,” and if I saw something of interest, she spurred me on to write up details for a “Field Note” for the Society’s journal, “The Kentucky Warbler.“ I got pretty good at bird identification, and I seemed to especially catch on to songs and calls. While the “cool” kids in school went home in the afternoon and interacted socially, I retired to the farm, did my chores, and birdwatched as much as I could. When the same kids were hanging out together on the weekends, I began spending time birdwatching with new friends ... most of them “much older” people who were married, had kids my own age, or were even retired. It was not long after I began birding that I began finding some things of interest to others. Here in Louisville we had a local “bird alert” phone list to circulate word of unusual finds. As is true for many of us, the “oddities” began to be the things I looked forward to finding as I grew accustomed to seeing “the regulars” every season. During the early late 1970s and early 1980s, I attended the University of Louisville. I did both undergraduate and graduate work at U of L so I could stay home and help out on the farm, but it also allowed me to study under Dr. Burt Monroe, Jr., who at the time was the state’s foremost authority on not only local birds, but birds of the world. I doubt the state will ever have an ornithologist who will more widely recognized than Dr. Monroe (unless you consider John James Audubon from his time here during the early 1800s, I guess!). The Annotated Checklist’s 1st edition ... Over the course of my early birding years, I had noticed that there was not a current compilation of the birds of Kentucky. I had read most every page of Robert Mengel’s “Birds of Kentucky” several times, but it had been published in 1965 and didn’t include many records past about 1960. I also noticed that no one besides Anne Stamm or Burt Monroe had any good sense of what was a new bird for the state or even if something was a “first” for a season or place. Burt had published an occurrence bar graph in “The Kentucky Warbler“ in 1969, but it didn’t source the extreme dates or reports of really rare birds. Similarly, a book titled “Kentucky Birds“ published by the University Press of Kentucky in 1973 lacked a lot of detail, especially for relatively rare species. So during the mid-1980s I began hand-writing and typing up (not even a word processor on hand for the common man at that time!) a draft of what I hoped I could interest Anne and Burt in becoming an “Annotated Checklist of the Birds of Kentucky.” I had seen such works done for other states and thought we could use one for Kentucky. It took a few years and some butting of heads among the three of us, but in 1988 we were finally successful in publishing it. As a sidebar ... I doubt anyone will ever repeat what Robert Mengel did for the state with the “Birds of Kentucky,” I think we’re all too busy and lazy! If you don’t have a copy you should buy one; it will always be a benchmark work for our state. The first edition of the “Annotated Checklist“ contained mostly a set of information that was of interest to me including peak counts, early and late dates, corrections of what appeared to be earlier errors, as well as a few interesting tidbits found in original literature sources that most people would not ever see. Most loose ends were tied up with the help of hand written notes maintained in a series of spiral bound notebooks that Anne Stamm had kept for more than 20 years. I still have those treasure chests of information and occasionally refer to them when the odd-ball question about a random record from the 1960s or 1970s arises. Those who know me well know that I am intense and stubborn about some, many, [OK, most] things, and I know that as in most of my dealings in life, those qualities have sometimes strained my relationships with others. It’s not really been a deal of “it’s my way or the highway,” though, as many might think. I think some others are as stubborn as I am, and when you butt heads over topics, there should be some manner of understanding and respecting one another’s perspectives about an issue. I can no longer confirm this with my coauthors of the first edition of the “Annotated Checklist,” but I’d like to think that we all understood and respected each others’ perspectives on the various issues that arose during our work together. I am at least confident that each of us certainly appreciated the others’ dedication to the study of the birds of our state. KBRC & the 2nd Edition of the Annotated Checklist ... In part because of difficulties we had in assigning “accepted” status to some sightings that appeared in the “Annotated Checklist’s” first edition, Dr. Monroe organized the state’s first “Bird Records Committee.” It was modeled after committees that were in place in some other states, and began to serve as the “official” body that made decisions on whether or not reports of bird sightings would become part of the states “official” list and data set. I served on the committee at first, but became frustrated that it was not reviewing as many reports as I thought it should, so when my term was up I did not continue to serve on it. Since that time I’ve come to feel as though it’s good for me to keep my role as author of various published summaries (Seasonal Reports in “The Kentucky Warbler“ and “North American Birds,” and updates to the “Annotated Checklist”) separate from the committee, so I have not lobbied to get back on it. Burt and Anne passed away during the mid- and late 1990s, respectively. Both have been missed in many ways, but their contributions to bird study will live on forever in the pages of the many books and articles to which they contributed. Before Anne passed away in 1999, a 2nd edition of the “Annotated Checklist“ had been initiated. In Burt and Anne’s absence, I continued the process and with the assistance of a number of people was able to get it published in 2003. During that exercise, I worked with the Chair of the Bird Records Committee, Lee McNeely, to try to assure that a consistent treatment of reports would appear in it. While the committee continues to serve as the “official” body for making decisions about records, there are dozens of sightings that are reported every year that are not dealt with by it, but that require some sort of review and assessment. To include or not to include ... it would be nice not to have to make many of those choices, but if you are in the unenviable position of needing to make a choice, you just try to do your best. I have seen cases where authors of some published summaries seem to just accept every sighting that has been reported in whatever manner, and those publications just seem to me to lack a desirable level of credibility. My way ... Back in 1985, I was fortunate enough to fall into a position where I could get involved in local bird conservation through a job at the Ky. State Nature Preserves Commission. Coincident with that position, I was also exposed to the manner in which biologists studied other groups of animals and plants. It wasn’t long before I truly understood how different the pursuit of birds “by the masses” was from most of the activities that go along with studying other groups. For example, in most other groups collection of specimens is still and perhaps will always be the most common method by which the ranges and occurrence of these organisms will be studied and documented. That being said, as some groups of animals have become more popular, photography continues to develop as an accepted manner of documenting occurrence. The previous paragraph may seem to be way off topic, but it provides some background for the manner in which I have attempted to pursue record-keeping of Kentucky’s bird life. In my initial years of starting to shoulder some of this responsibility with Anne & Burt, I decided that I really liked the way Robert Mengel treated reports that he included in the “Birds of Kentucky.” You can tell that he had a level head about reports he considered dubious for one reason or another; he seemed to me to utilize a relatively conservative, common sense manner of records assessment, and I would have to say I have attempted to emulate it to the best of my ability. I don’t collect anything, of course, but I do try to get photographs of as many unusual things as I can and get them to a published or web source as much as I can. And I also encourage others to do the same! As noted earlier, one of the first things you notice when you really get into birding is that birds have wings and just about anything can show up anywhere at any time. I think that is the most enjoyable aspect of birding ... there is the day in your life when you are going to go to a flood retention basin in southern Jefferson County and find a Little Stint, or you are going to look out your back window, and there’s going to be a Green-tailed Towhee scratching on the ground with the other birds. However, as exciting as such “rarities” are to us birders, there is seldom a case when the detection and documentation of these vagrants is going to be relevant to conservation (or to anyone besides us birders, really). Rarities are really just part of a game we play as birders. It’s also easy to get caught up in the notion that an individual sighting may represent the “first” for a particular area. In 1984 while participating on the Otter Creek Park Christmas Bird Count, I blundered upon a Mountain Bluebird that a number of people got to see. It remains Kentucky’s “only” record of which I am aware, but is there anyone out there who thinks that this is the only Mountain Bluebird that has ever been in Kentucky? What was actually represented by the finding of that Mountain Bluebird was the first time one had been conclusively *detected* in the state. I wouldn’t be surprised if a Mountain Bluebird is somewhere in Kentucky every few years. Because what we actually notice is only a small subset of what is actually around, I have always adhered to a philosophy that what we put into our “official” data set (and publish in perpetuity in the literature) should only be the sightings for which we have unequivocal documentation (and, thus, utmost confidence). Where we all draw that line may be at different places. What one cares to put on his or her life list might be subjected to a different set of criteria than what the ornithological society decides to place onto an “official” list for the state. I’ve just always been a stickler on that point. One might consider a brief look at a bird as good enough to count on their personal list, but for a species to be included in a state’s “official” data set, I don’t think many would argue that some higher level of documentation should be required. In the above paragraph, I put “official” in quotes because, as previously noted, the acceptance of a sighting of a rare bird into a certain data set matters to no one except us birders (and perhaps a few scientists/museum curators who care to keep a record of such occurrences). In the grand scheme there is really no one else who does care. It is our own specific area of interest ... our “game” we play. Among those people who do care to be interested in such matters, however, it is considerations such as these that lead to discussions and debates, and can eventually end in cases of frustration, tension, intense words, and loss of friendships. It probably seems ridiculous, of course, for that to be the case, especially to those who have never attempted to keep such a body of information reliable and credible. However, I can tell you that everyone who gets involved in it is exposed to it eventually. And at that point you make a choice about how much you care about it. For me, I’ve obviously cared about it a lot. The state’s “official” data set never has been, nor will it ever be, “mine,” but I have taken great pride in trying to do a good job of putting a credible, sensibly compiled set of information out there in the sources for which I have been responsible (in part or entirely). I’ve also welcomed and grown accustomed to open discussion about things like this with a lot of people who are willing to listen to and respect different perspectives. As long as there are two or more people involved, there will always be differing opinions. I’ve also always tried to be as objective as I can with the process, but perhaps as important as being objective is being consistent in one’s treatment of reports and the people submitting details of the sightings. This means that you have to try to treat the reports of the most knowledgeable observers the same as the reports of novices. You can imagine how difficult this is. However, it means that the novices must be required to submit a certain level of detail with a report and it means that the experts are going to sometimes be asked to provide more than they might believe they need to. In all scenarios there is room for difficulties to arise. Apology ... Now what this is all leading to is an open apology to all the birders of our region. As stated previously, I have been closely involved in all of this record-keeping process for more than two decades now. I have continued to try to be as objective and level-headed in my considerations, discussions, and decisions as I can be. However, ... there have been times when I have become frustrated with the process, so frustrated, in fact, that I have said things, both verbally and in writing, for which there is no place. I know I have hurt the feelings of a few people, and I am responsible for alienating folks on more than one occasion. Those of you who regularly read the posts to our state listserv, BIRDKY, and the seasonal reports that appear quarterly in “The Kentucky Warbler“ and “North American Birds,” certainly have noted the absence of contributions over the past couple of years from some of the people who I have hurt. So I openly apologize to those individuals who I have hurt with my words, I apologize to my birding friends who have been placed in the middle of these situations, and I apologize to all the readers of BIRDKY and the state and national birding journals who have not been able to know about the missing reports. Where to go from here ...? In order to correct the situation, I have been asked by a few people to remove myself from the record-keeping process, and I would do that if I felt like it was the best thing to do. But I know that at least currently I would be letting way too many other people down to accommodate that request. Short of me resigning from all of my record-keeping roles, it has been stated that withholding of reports has been the only way to eliminate communication with me (and, thus, the problem). However, I want to clearly state that what bothers me most about this situation is that I have caused a lack of sharing of reports to occur. The most wonderful aspect of the digital age is that it has enriched the opportunity for us birders to share with one another so much more than we have ever been able to before. So I want to also openly pledge to anyone who hesitates to share their observations with others via BIRDKY or other listservs, that I will not communicate with anyone who has expressed or who expresses such a desire. Likewise, for anyone who does not wish their sightings or photographs to be included in published form, all they have to do is submit such a desire to either Lee McNeely (co-author of the KOS seasonal reports) or Chris Sloan (co-author of the “North American Birds“ seasonal reports) and those wishes will be honored. Assembling a reliable set of data for publication is typically a fun endeavor that involves interaction with a number of folks; the spring 2012 seasonal report in “The Kentucky Warbler,” for example, involved reports from no less than 150 individuals. I have especially enjoyed being able to incorporate so many nice photos in recent years due to the advent of digital photography. However, the angst referred to previously does nothing but diminish my enthusiasm for putting in the work required to do the best job one can. There is a lot of time and effort involved in doing the best job, and one obviously needs the “fun” of it to keep doing it. As work towards publication of a 3rd edition of the Annotated Checklist proceeds, I find myself happening to go through the most difficult time of my life. I am not entirely sure that it will get finished. Moreover, the compilation of quarterly reports for “The Kentucky Warbler“ and “North American Birds“ become more difficult every year. If there is anyone who has a special desire to get their foot in the door on this record-keeping process, I encourage you to contact me or someone with KOS. In particular I am currently searching for a co-author for the next edition of the “Annotated Checklist.” Finally, if there is anyone left still reading ... I want to say that I have not put all of this out there to garner support of any kind or generate a single encouraging response from anyone. However, if there is anyone who wishes to share criticisms, constructive comments, or any other insight on these topics, please know that I expect and encourage all kinds of input regarding record-keeping of Kentucky’s birdlife. In “giving it out” I have never expected anything other than “getting it back.” One is not always comfortable hearing criticism, but if it is well-founded it can make one a better person. Brainard Palmer-Ball, Jr. ================NOTES TO SUBSCRIBERS============= When posting on BIRDKY, please close posts with your first and last name and your address (city or county). * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * To post on BIRDKY, send e-mail to: birdky@xxxxxxxxxxxxx * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Visit the KOS website at http://www.biology.eku.edu/kos/default.htm * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Visit the KOS Photo Page to view photos of birds recently sighted in Kentucky: http://www.flickr.com/groups/kentucky_ornithological_society/pool * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * To unsubscribe, send e-mail to: birdky-request@xxxxxxxxxxxxx with 'unsubscribe' in the Subject line. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * BIRDKY List Manager: Gary Ritchison. E-mail: gary.ritchison@xxxxxxx