It’s a morning many birders dream of: You wake up, make your morning coffee, and settle in to read the eBird rare bird alerts that rolled into your inbox as you slept. Suddenly, you see something that makes your heart race—a rare bird you’ve never seen before was sighted in your area!
The irony of writing a story about 45-kilogram cassowaries—with forelimbs as small as those of chickens—for a blog called Wing Beat is not lost upon me. My coauthors and I are particularly excited to publish a paper for Ornithology about these flightless birds, as it seems most of the researched avian species in this journal are no larger than a mango.
Biologists with the former Falcon Research Group had been studying these charismatic birds since the mid-1980s in the state of Washington, but it wasn’t until the winter of 1996–1997 that they first captured an unusual B. jamaicensis with a strange, elongated beak.
Being a fledgling is difficult—and dangerous. The vast majority (~80 percent) of young birds do not survive this stage, succumbing to predation or starvation. What might give a vulnerable fledgling a head start when leaving the nest? Once they leave, how far do they move between their hatch sites and first breeding sites, and why?
To the world, this work may constitute just another research paper. For me, it represents my first real step into the world of science. More than two years ago as an undergraduate at Ohio Wesleyan University, I began a summer internship in Dr. Dustin Reichard’s lab to gain research experience with wild birds.
In the Special Feature, Ecology and Conservation of Cavity Nesters in the Neotropics, seven field studies, a perspective, and a review contribute to understanding the ecology and conservation of cavity-nesting birds through a Neotropical lens.
For more than a decade, our team has focused on studying male Scolopax minor (American Woodcock) in Rhode Island. During this time, we recognized a significant gap in knowledge about female S. minor, particularly regarding nest site selection and brood survival, due to a lack of data from this region.
How to describe something we cannot see? This challenge defines nocturnal bird migration research. Every spring and fall, millions of birds fly through the night, journeying between wintering and breeding grounds.
It’s strange to think that a paper about Strix varia (Barred Owl) in Louisiana would begin in Jamaica more than 15 years ago. But that’s where this story starts.
Have you ever walked through the forest and looked up to see a bird’s nest hidden in the branches? I always find myself thinking about why they picked that exact place. Why not in a neighboring tree?
