The Christmas Bird Count: “Better Than Any Animal Planet Video!”

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In 1900, Frank Chapman had a wild idea. He proposed that readers of Bird-Lore, Audubon magazine’s predecessor, go out on Christmas Day and count as many birds as they could find—an alternative to traditional bird hunts on the holiday. That first year, a few dozen people accepted the challenge. Today, 125 years later, around 80,000 people across the Western Hemisphere take part in the Christmas Bird Count (CBC): From December 14 to January 5 every year, volunteers join together to tally birds along established routes. The routes might be predictable, but between the whims of Mother Nature, the delights of meeting new people, and, in at least one instance, geopolitics, what participants experience is anything but predictable. Here, CBC participants share some of their favorite anecdotes from the tradition. 

In the first year of the Lost Pines count in Texas, we saw a Red-shouldered Hawk grab a Killdeer. Immediately after, a Merlin zoomed in and displaced the hawk. Then a harrier chased the Merlin away. And the Killdeer escaped! Better than any Disney wildlife adventure or Animal Planet video! —Louise Ridlon

I got a photo of my girlfriend looking at a screech-owl on Pad 39B, where I supported Apollo 10. A ranger drives us around Kennedy Space Center, where I worked with NASA for 35 years, and it’s always nostalgic to be out there. —Jim Meyer

On December 20, 1989, the United States invaded Panama. Very few brave participants drove to the Atlantic Canal Area CBC and went through checkpoints, heavy combat equipment, and military force, and they managed to get to the census areas. The count came in second among all CBCs, with 310 species, second only to Panama’s Pacific Canal Area (325 species). —Rosabel Miro

I was paired with a seasoned veteran for my first CBC in 2023. When I met him at a gas station, I jokingly told him I’d spotted our first bird: a chicken wandering nearby. He laughed and said, in the nicest way, that it wouldn’t count for our purposes. That day we learned so much about each other’s lives, traded Christmas cookie recipes, and discovered that we have the same spark bird: the Loggerhead Shrike. He taught me how to tell a Turkey Vulture from a Black Vulture in flight and the difference between Palm and Pine Warblers. I recorded many lifers that day, so early in my birding journey. —Karina Jiménez

On my first CBC, I went out with Bill Cook, who became my first birding mentor. Even though I was already an advanced birder, he taught me how to navigate a CBC day and introduced me to the event’s culture. It was a meaningful transition from being a kid birding with my supportive parents to a young adult finding a community. Since then, I’ve made it a mission to support and strengthen the local birding community where I live. —Chad Witko

My husband and I were new to the chapter, so we were paired with an expert birder. I was the recorder, and my husband and the expert identified birds as we glided along a backwater. The expert began calling out duck species and numbers. As our boat got closer to the ducks, they sat calmly in the water. Closer still the “ducks” were obviously decoys. As my husband and I looked at each other and suppressed our laughs, the expert instructed me to strike the ducks from our count. —Nancy Meister

Beginner’s luck always has a positive effect on CBCs. On one Rhode Island count, I was accompanied by a friend who had only done a couple of CBCs, and we had one of the most exciting days of birding that I’ve ever had in New England. After starting the day with Northern Waterthrush, a very rare species on any CBC in the region, we found two Red-headed Woodpeckers and a Barrow’s Goldeneye, all very desired birds. Then, as the sun was setting, we found a Western Tanager, my first in eastern North America and a first for the nearly 70-year history of the count! —Geoff LeBaron

The largest flock of birds I have ever seen was in Pine Prairie, Louisiana. Historically the area has had major concentrations of wintering blackbirds that feed on waste grain, mostly rice. Departure flights from these roosts were massive, difficult to describe, and a challenge to make accurate estimates. The 1987 main morning departure flight from the swamps in the middle of the CBC was a continuous, dense sheet of blackbirds flying in a flock which was five miles wide and took 45 minutes to pass. —Brent Ortego

Once when rafting down the river on the Grand Junction Christmas Bird Count, we were talking about rare birds that others had found on counts and in other places. As we were talking, we were passing a snowy bank with a large flock of Audubon’s Warblers. Mid-conversation, a male Black-throated Blue Warbler popped out into the snow, and I blurted out “Black-throated Blue Warbler!” Everyone else, facing other ways, agreed that would be a good bird to find. It took a minute to get everyone to turn around, but we all ended up getting phenomenal views of the bird, with its plumage standing out in stark contrast with the snow. —Jacob Cooper

This year will be the Champlain Islands CBC’s 42nd year. All three circles hold a potluck after the count, and that’s the best part of the day, sharing food and birding stories with people you might only see once a year. —Kenneth Copenhaver

In Mindo, Ecuador, the CBC is a celebration of the diversity of birds and the preservation of nature. Every year we have a party the night before our bird count, where local dance groups perform; we design new T-shirts for all participants; and we organize one or two routes for middle schoolers, to teach the next generation of birdwatchers. And as our circle consistently ranks among the highest in terms of the number of species, it has had a big impact in promoting conservation and ecotourism in our area. —Nicole Büttner

The Elkhart County Christmas Bird Count started as a Sunday tradition, then transitioned to the last Saturday of the count cycle. We began to attract the Amish birding community to participate. One year when the New Year Holiday fell on the day of the Count, we moved it back to a Sunday, but lost our Amish volunteers and missed their expertise.  To make the event more inclusive and gain back our “faithful volunteers,” we moved it back to Saturday the following year and I never made that mistake again!  —Ronda DeCaire

I owl my Dad’s area, using his maps and his recordings to call. We call ourselves the OMG which stands for the Owl Moon Gang—based on my mom’s children’s book about my dad and me owling when I was a child. The first year I owled after my dad died, his two best friends went with me. On our first stop, we all wandered a bit from the car in different directions and we each had a moment. My dad was a stickler for being quiet when owling, but when we came back together, we decided there was no owl and we began telling stories about my dad. It was then that a screech-owl started calling. —Heidi Stemple

This story originally ran in the Winter 2024 issue as “Tally Tales.” To receive our print magazine, become a member by making a donation today.

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