Here in the U.S., we have three national bird counts. On a designated Saturday in the spring and on another one in the fall, we do a migratory bird count. Each year around Christmas, the Audubon Society sponsors its Christmas bird count, which just takes a national “snapshot” of a typical wintry day. The neatest thing about these bird counting exercises is that non-scientists can actually contribute to scientific research. Although the skills of the counting teams vary greatly, there’s so much statistical data by the end of the day that it has some real validity.

There are also hundreds of local bird counts going on throughout the country all the time. My favorite is a weird one, because it’s mostly done by ear. Early one morning during breeding season, right before the “dawn chorus” starts, we meet in a state forest and are assigned seven “stops” per two-person team. At each stop, you count off fifty paces into the woods and listen. One of the team members has a diagram, which looks like a target divided into quadrants, and the other holds a stopwatch. You try to locate and identify the bird sounds you hear during the first five minutes, and enter the names of the species in red in the appropriate places on the chart. Then you continue for another five minutes, entering the species in blue. (This allows the data analyst to decide whether an individual bird has merely moved a short distance or if its another bird you’re hearing.) Sometimes you actually get to see a few birds, but the point of the exercise is to find the ones that are sheltered out of sight.

The mosquitoes usually join in the fun, so my teammate and I slather ourselves with repellent. This action is similar to prayer: it creates false hope but has no measurable results.