The Birding Year in Review

Looking Back at 2024

The Big Reset

For a birder, there’s something exciting about the calendar turning over. You get a blank canvas, a new start, and all the anticipation for the birding year ahead. A new year brings a renewed thrill in seeing the most common birds and getting the chance to tick the likes of American Robin and Blue Jay and House Finch of our year lists, yard lists…whatever lists we keep. There’s also the suspense of wondering what the first bird of the year will be, and that comes with the hope it will be something cooler than the invasive House Sparrow or European Starling.

My first bird of 2024 was a Canada Goose. I’d stepped outside sometime after midnight with the hope of hearing a Great Horned Owl when an unmistakable honk rose up out of the ravine behind the house. “Well played!” I remember answering what now seems a portend for my pretty lame year for owls.

The Goal

But 2024 wasn’t lame in general. In fact, I come away with the feeling it was one of my best years. It started with a very loose goal of seeing 200 bird species in Allegheny County. My personal record for total birds in a single county was 199, set in Ingham Co, Michigan in 2022 and interrupted by our move to Pittsburgh in August. As in central Michigan, 200 birds in western Pennsylvania is tough but very possible with hard work and the willingness to do some serious driving. And 2024 was the year to do it! Aside from 10 days in New York and 10 days in Ohio, there was no major travel planned. Add that I had no 9-5 job to gobble up my time, I was primed to bird the hell out of Allegheny County. Nothing could stop me!

Except me.

I wrote about whether these numbers really matter a couple of months ago, and when I was already declining to chase after birds in January, the answer became pretty clear—to me, in 2024, reaching 200 didn’t really matter. Still, there was a chance my ambition would spike, that I’d have an eye on my eBird county ranking and want to see my name surge to the top.

So, did I reach 200 birds in 2024?

I did not. Far from it. However, 183 species beat 2023’s total by 7 and placed me 7th among the birders of Allegheny County. I have no misgivings about not working harder for 200, but 7th place does feel pretty good. So do numbers matter to me? A little bit, yeah.

The Lifers

I also got eight life birds in 2024 (down from a 59 in 2023), none more exciting than the Mississippi Kite that strayed out of its normal range in August and showed up in my hometown of Akron, Ohio to wreak havok on the local insect population. Even better, I got to see the Kite with my dad in the neighborhood where he grew up and first learned to bird.

Mississippi Kite with a footful of (I think) cicada

Aside from the Kite. I was able to add Black-throated Gray Warbler, Pacific Loon, Bell’s Vireo, American Oystercatcher, Saltmarsh Sparrow, Brewer’s Blackbird, and Ross’s Goose to my life list.

The Connection to Birds

Vastly more important than the numbers was the connection I made with birds in 2024. As the year progressed, I found myself less focused on hustling for big lists and more content to slow down and spend time observing and appreciating birds in the moment, whether at the feeders or out in the field. One spot above all others afforded me the chance to do so.

The Rachel Carson Trail is an ecologically varied 46-mile stretch of hiking paths in Allegheny County that largely cuts through private property. We’re lucky so many landowners have agreed to share their land with the public, and doubly so to have trail access within walking distance of our house. The segment we frequent is a particularly stunning stretch that follows Pine Creek’s course through a rocky wooded wilderness. I did a lot of birding on the Rachel Carson Trail in 2024.

Many birds found the habitat suitable for nesting, including Veerys.

Eastern Phoebes.

Acadian Flycatchers.

And my very favorite bird of 2024 (see this week’s featured photo and video 👇).

New York

Considering I lived in New York for two years, my New York State bird count has been embarrassingly low. Happily the friends and family we have there keep us coming back. Some of our dearest old friends have a beach home on Long Island that they’ve never hesitated to share with us. That generosity has not only made for decades of wonderful memories, it’s given my NY birding a real shot in the arm. There’s a lot of coastline on Long Island. Lots of shorebird habitat. I was especially eager to get my first American Oystercatcher and Black Skimmer during this trip. I struck out on the Skimmer, but the Oystercatcher alone was worth it, and birding Long Island also gave me some of my favorite photos of the year.

Osprey chicks looking dumbstruck on their nest

An angry Willet telling me in no uncertain terms to GTFOH

One of many Piping Plovers you can find on Long Island, thanks in part to concerted conservation efforts

The Friends I’ve Made

I lean introvert, but birding really brings out my sociable side. I love finding community among bird fanatics, and my experience in both central Michigan and Western Pennsylvania is that the birders in general are generous in their willingness to help and extremely contagious in the spreading of bird joy.

In 2024 I continued to bird with my local besties and fellow writers Holly and Elizabeth, though not nearly as much as I would have liked. Friendships grounded in a mutual passion are nice because there’s always something to talk about, and with these kinds of friends I can get beyond my standard go-to social moves, such as Awkward Silences and Heavy Perspiration.

Who says online friends can’t be real friends? Nick and Tim are two New York area birders who happen to be acquainted in the birding world. I’d met both of them virtually via Twitter, which led to real-life meetings last year. Nick and I had a wonderful time getting to know each other while birding Pittsburgh’s Frick Park during fall migration (we tallied 9 warbler species), and Tim gave me my first birding tour of the Bronx. I owe him big time for my lifer Saltmarsh Sparrow, and I hope to get back soon for a better look at the sparrow and more birding with Tim.

In December I got to meet Sofia, a young Pittsburgh area birder, during a (successful) quest to find a flock of American Pipits (boo!) and a subsequent (also successful) journey to track down our lifer Ross’s Goose (yay!). Sparked in 2024 by a Dark-eyed Junco, Sofia has been birding for less than a year, but her already vast knowledge suggests she’s been devouring bird literature with the appetite of a true glutton. That energy is infectious, and I look forward to more outings in the coming months.

Finally, there’s Rhianna, another Twitter buddy who I got to meet in real life in Tucson in 2023. We’ve been daily texters ever since and her friendship has become invaluable to me as we chase birds and try not to misidentify what we see. More on Rhianna below, but she’s become a hell of a birder and cheers to a reunion soon!

Oh, and also—gmbc ilybc (you know who you are).

And Nemeses I’ve Kept

A week after we moved to Pittsburgh, a Connecticut Warbler showed up in my Michigan patch. Since then, the skulking bastard has thwarted my every attempt to track it down. I may have taken my foot off the gas on 200 last year, but I was dogged in my attempt to find my nemesis bird.

You win, Connecticut Warbler. Again.

Birding and My Wife

Birding in Ohio during Christmas was uneventful and mostly involved my brother’s yard and feeders. However, there were several bird-themed presents for me under the tree—a peanut feeder, a coffee mug, and a Barred Owl metal bird among them. My favorite gift was the one my wife Alex picked out.

I could talk forever about what an amazing a partner in love, marriage, and parenthood my wife has been since we met at Ohio University in 1999. Not only has she supported me in my birding obsession, when the itch to get back into writing creatively bit me in 2024, it was Alex who suggested Substack as an ideal platform for the kind of writing I’m good at.

Finding You

And that gets me to why 2024 was a great birding year. Birding with BillBow has added a wonderful new dimension to my hobby, one that allows me to feel creatively fulfilled while also building community with fellow writer-birders. Any concern that meeting a weekly deadline was going to add unnecessary stress to the thing that keeps me mentally balanced and tranquil have long faded, and I thank you, dear birders, for reading week after week. Your overwhelmingly positive response (and, yes, coffee) is what keeps me churning out the posts.

The Year Ahead

After a lively New Year’s party, I slept late on January first. It wasn’t until after lunch that my family and I stepped outside for a walk and were greeted by our first bird of 2025.

Bad news, right? Wrong. I don’t see American Crows as a ill omen. On the contrary, a flock of some of the smartest, most resourceful birds on the planet can only be a good sign of what’s to come in 2025, as far as I’m concerned.

And as for my goals for the year? Well, I’d like to see a Connecticut f*#@ing Warbler, for one. Another crack at the Black Skimmers of New York would be a welcome part of the itinerary. And I might as well throw a dream out there too—a trip to Costa Rica is on the table. This is the year I turn 50, and that seems an appropriate age to cook up something Big. Here’s to everything falling into place for a trip to Central America 🥂

Featured Photo—Louisiana Waterthrush

In the eastern US during the warmer months, if you find yourself in the woods and can hear moving water, you have a good chance of seeing a Louisiana Waterthrush. Unlike its elusive treetop cousins, this warbler bobs its ass up and down as it gleans insects around the banks of gurgling waterways. Last summer I was lucky to have at least three nesting pairs along the Rachel Carson Trail, and finding one of their nests was the birding highlight of the year.

Featured Video—Louisiana Waterthrush

When I said I became less driven by seeing large numbers of birds and more content to sit and watch them, this is what I’m talking about. My reward for choosing patience over list building allowed me to observe a Louisiana Waterthrush family for extended periods, which gave me a much richer picture of their field marks and their behavior. I watched as both parents gathered insects to feed their four offspring. I watched the parents remove fecal sacs (the membrane surrounding a hatchling’s feces. Make sure to watch the video to the end!) from the nest and deposit them in the water. I watched as the chicks fledged, incrementally gaining the strength and confidence to leave the nest and fend for themselves. That’s why the Louisiana Waterthrush was my favorite bird of the year 🥇

10/10 Recommends

Rhianna Truex

There are people who take pictures of nature (me), and then there are people who manage to capture the art in nature. That’s Rhianna. I don’t know what regions of the brain have to be firing to make great art, but Rhianna has it going on, whether she’s photographing birds, tiny mushrooms, banana slugs, or glowing scorpions. Start by checking out her instagram. You won’t be able to look away 📷 🐦‍⬛ 🐌

withLovefromTexHeart

I love my little Northern Cardinal planter (or a handy candleholder, if you please) so much, I’m recommending the Etsy shop where Alex found it. I hope our aloe plant likes it too! 🌱

That’s all for this week. How did you ring in the New Year? What are your birding goals for 2024? Do you have any big trips planned? Are you doing a Big Year? Let’s talk in the comments 👇

nwb

This post was human-generated. All photos and videos by Nathaniel Bowler unless otherwise noted.