The Buzz of Bird Banding

A Black-Capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) held in the hand of a wildlife biologist. NPS

There is nothing quite like the feeling of holding a wild bird in your hands. As a certain kind of stillness sweeps over, you notice your heart beating a little faster in your chest. A heightened sense of intimate privilege and incredible responsibility for well-being of the delicate creature resting in your palm flows through you. A symbol of freedom, itching to fly again, their bodies are strangely pliant as you twist your wrists to look at their undersides. Many are quiet, only looking at you with their heads cocked to the side. Others will chirp at you until released, unharmed. Birds have always felt out of reach, but holding one now makes you realize just how fragile they are. You release it and watch it fly back into the woods, then let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your body still humming.

I followed a group of biologists and volunteers in Glacier National Park before the sun had breached the horizon down an unmarked trail. This group of early birds manages the Park’s MAPS station. Nationally started by the Institute for Bird Populations (IBP) in 1989, MAPS stands for Monitoring Avian Productivity and Survivorship. There are over 300 active MAPS stations in the U.S., Canada, and Mexico that do the same routine up to every ten days in the summer.

Each station puts up ten delicately threaded nets in areas songbirds are likely to fly through. After the first net is up, a 30-minute timer starts, and the group waits. Once the alarm goes off, the team makes the rounds to check each net for birds. The birds are processed and documented to help researchers keep track of them in the future and to contribute to the MAPS database. This cycle goes on for six hours. The earlier the sun is up, the earlier they start.

Wildlife biologists look through reference materials and data sheets while banding birds during the MAPS program. NPS.

They are led by Lisa Bate, a supercharged wildlife biologist for Glacier who started the park’s MAPS station. I try to keep up with her as she moves from net to net, pushing through grass and wildflowers that go up to her waist. She is buzzing with energy, despite the fact that—as she later reveals—she has been awake since 2:00 am. While I’m distracted by the sunrise and meadow surrounding us, her mind is honed in on one thing: the birds.

“With this program, we can really learn about the survivorship of the adults and juveniles and learn if the populations are increasing or decreasing and where that is occurring. Bird numbers are declining for a lot of species and it’s important to track what’s happening, especially in a national park because they’re undeveloped and protected from extractive industries.”

Where this belongs

• Glacier National Park

Where this page came from

This page was imported from National Park Service. Produced by the U.S. National Park Service and, as a work of the United States government, in the public domain.

Nobody has written it yet — it is the source material at a new address, which is why search engines are asked to skip it and why no one earns from it. It is up for grabs: take it on, and it is yours to rewrite and to earn from.