Listeria (no not the disease)

I completed my census form, and was tempted to put, under religion, the term “listerism”, in the manner of the now famous Jedi Knights. I didn’t, because I don’t believe a census form to be the place for frivolity, but it did make me think that for many birders listing is a religion. It is certainly easy to be a “failed lister” in the way you can be a “failed Catholic”.

However, whilst a list may be the most important thing in your life, it is also a very personal thing, and therein lies the beauty of a list. It is your list, and you can do with it what you will, put on it your own opinion if you like, but most importantly, the rest of the world is largely uninterested, except perhaps your own circle of friends. It matters not what varying taxonomic viewpoints are, nor what a committee of people, many of whom have never seen the species involved, choose to vote on. It is your list, your opinion, and most of all your memories that are triggered.

 For many years I was an avid twitcher, but I did it largely because Ann and I enjoyed it, it was fun and the cameraderie was excellent. I believe at one point I was in the top sixty on “Lee’s list” but I don’t care, I did it for pleasure and to see and learn about more birds. As I travelled abroad more I realised, as many do, that I was largely twitching birds I had already seen, so I began to be much more selective. This is not the case for many, and there is great variation in listing. Some people don’t keep lists as such, but merely record what they’ve seen. At the other end of the scale are out and out listers, who just live for ticks; most birders are somewhere in between and that is great, because if you don’t want the stress involved in having a bigger list than someone else it is entirely your own decision. If you are a competitive lister, it is addictive and can lead to you doing things you don't really want to do, such as driving overnight to the northermost area of Scotland to see a bird which is no longer there. However, this is outweighed for most when a first for Britain is there, especially if not many make the journey and the bird has gone by midday. (Then you go to the States and the same species is everywhere).

The very competitive nature of most sports, especially at the top, tends to ruin them eventually. Imagine if VAR was somehow applied to birding, although there is actually a parallel. Many years ago a record of a Black-headed Wagtail in Essex was rejected because it had one white feather in the supercilium area which was hardly visible, but it was deemed to be a hybrid. How’s that for being offside by a finger! That is not a criticism of a rarities committee, they were applying the rules which have to be adhered to for a scientific record, all of which may be used when making important decisions affecting conservation and land use. However for the average birder it’s a nonsense, especially as a large number of flava type wagtails are probably undetectable hybrids anyway. Category A of the British List does provide a convenient standard if you wish to compare your list with others, but most birders I know keep two UK lists, one category A, the other containing everything which they believe to be correctly identified and a genuine vagrant. Hands up those who have Booted Eagle on their UK list, or Indigo Bunting on their Norfolk list. As mentioned previously, it’s your personal list.

However, the importance of an individual’s list to them can reveal some interesting characters. Listing is basically a form of hunting or collecting, without harm to the bird nor the ability to actually possess it, and I suppose the importance to them reflects the character of the lister.  I once heard of an American lister (they tend to be the more extreme) who kept a copy of his list locked in a bank vault and claimed he would become suicidal if it were lost. I don’t think a bank robber would be interested. On one of my first trips abroad I came across a lady who kept all her records on a card file system which travelled with her (in 1990 before you ask). The trip was to Chile, and she was only interested in six species, out of a potential 300. Early on in the trip we had spent much of one day looking for Magellanic Plover on Tierra del Fuego. A monotypic wader family which is unique in feeding the young by regurgitation, it is thinly spread on saline lakes in the extreme south of South America. Not an easy species to find, but  eventually we picked up a bird in flight, then another, another, and more on the lake edge. Eventually we were watching a flock of twenty-seven, including several juveniles. This was the largest flock ever recorded at that time, made all the sweeter by the long hours we had put in and the fact that our charter flight back to the mainland was already waiting at the airport.

Eventually the leader remembered Mona, who had been in the vehicle much of the time. To be fair, she was elderly and had made an effort earlier in the day. The bus was only about 100 yards away, so Peter ran across and called excitedly from the door “we’ve found a record flock of Magellanic Plover”.  She actually needed to look at her index file before declaring “That’s OK, I saw one in Argentina”

Talking of flocks, Ann and I, on a trip in the Australian outback, saw a flock of Inland Dotterel, apparently the largest flock ever recorded, over 240 birds. We had seen a few the previous evening after spending a total of three months in Oz looking for them (among other things), so they weren’t a tick. I am SO glad I’m not a total lister.  I've seen people ignore a singing male of a species because they'd ticked a female earlier in a trip. Most birders fall between the two extremes, which I think is one of the reasons we all get on so well in the field, because our common interest isn't exactly the same for everyone. 

I’ve been to countries, and will go again, where I’ve only had a few ticks, but I’ve enjoyed them more, if anything, than trips getting me more than 300. It’s an individual choice, but I shan’t be stopping birding until I physically can’t do it any more, not when I reach a particular milestone on a list. Should anyone be interested, my own world list is about 4250, and my UK list somewhere above 520, but I've seen all the gulls in the world, all the penguins, over 200 waders/shorebirds, and I've thoroughly enjoyed it all. Not for me innumerable Bulbuls or birds ticked from their undersides in the canopy, but each to their own. I appreciate the interests of others, and wish every success to family listers, birders trying to see all the world's Pittas, or Nuthatches, or Big Cats, now that's a challenge!

 I've always had a camera, so have thousands of photos, but I have never counted them, nor the number of species I've photographed. I will target a species to get a better photo, or any photo in some cases, but birding comes first. If you really want to involve one-upmanship, I used to have a list of birds seen in my lunchbreak from work. I worked as a locum in Norfolk and Suffolk, so that list includes Oriental Pratincole, Lanceolated Warbler, Lark Sparrow, Lapland Bunting (found), Alpine Swift, Hoopoe, Med. Gull, Hen and Montague's Harriers, Hobby, and more. Beat that! But it's only ever been in my head, not written down nor added up, just a bit of fun.