For the Birds

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New York City's Central Park may be surrounded by skyscrapers and enveloped in smog, but it is still a paradise for bird watchers. The May migration brings flocks of exotic species to this urban oasis--avian counterparts to the out-of-towners who crowd Times Square and Broadway. The high point is "Warbler Week," the perfect time for 15 bird lovers from the National Audubon Society to go on an early-morning expedition with David Allen Sibley, 39, author of the best-selling Sibley Guide to Birds (Knopf; $35) and, since the death of Roger Tory Peterson five years ago, America's most famous birder.

Leading the troop down from Belvedere Castle into the wooded area known as the Ramble, Sibley points out one species after another--sometimes faster than a reporter can jot down their names. He identifies birds by their song even before he spots them and is constantly chirping himself: "There's a wood thrush hopping across that rock...Here's a little parade of yellow-rumped warblers and white-throated sparrows...There are black-throated blue warblers singing all around us."

In less than two hours, Sibley heard or saw at least 30 species. And almost as plentiful as the birds were the bird watchers--thanks in part to Sibley. His Guide, with 500,000 copies in print since it was published last October, has become the fastest-selling bird book in history. Its 6,600 paintings (all by Sibley) and clear, descriptive text are attracting fresh recruits to birding all across the U.S.

Birders, depending on which survey you believe, now number somewhere between 50 million and 70 million, and for many of them bird watching has become less a hobby than a religion. Dedicated birders travel around the world to find rare varieties and compete in dawn-to-dusk "birdathons" to see who can spot the most species in a single day. Veterans keep "life lists" that number in the thousands.

But the joy of birding is increasingly tinged with anxiety--especially with George W. Bush in the White House. Too many species are becoming harder and harder to find. Birds that thrive in human habitats--pigeons, starlings, robins--are doing just fine. But some 15% of the 800 species that live in or pass through North America are in serious decline. "I used to see American tree sparrows by the hundreds in the Northeast," Sibley says. "Now they are very rare." Others on his growing worry list include the bobolink, the upland sandpiper and the loggerhead shrike.

More is at stake than a few loggerhead shrikes. Like the proverbial canary in a coal mine, birds have long been leading indicators of the health of an ecosystem. In the book that gave birth to the modern environmental movement, Silent Spring (1962), Rachel Carson used the plight of bald eagles and other birds to dramatize the dangers of pesticides. Contaminated by DDT, some species were laying eggs with shells so thin that chicks died and populations plummeted. Public concern led to a U.S. ban on the most hazardous chemicals, including ddt, and intensive conservation efforts saved the bald eagle and California condor from extinction.