What did you do during the climate crisis?

When I was growing up there was a common question - in real life and on the TV - that was asked of older relatives and family friends, and that was "What did you do in the war?" It would not surprise me if future generations have their own version of this, that along the lines of "What did you do during the climate crisis?" And, if you are going to be asked that question, what do you think your answer will be?

Most people, sad to say, are not really interested in the drivers of climate change. They might be nudged into some sort of response when something directly affects them - the shops run out of ice cream and cold drinks if it's too hot; their fence gets blown down when it's too windy; or there's a hosepipe ban because it's too dry. When these irritations stop (which, at the moment, they do) all talk of a climate crisis is then relegated to media chatter, becoming just a background noise to be ignored alongside Brexit, boats crossing the channel and who is going to appear on the next series of 'I'm a Celebrity'. 

Most people...

Are we birders also 'most people' or are we separated from that grouping by a superior understanding, via our interest in wildlife, of just what climate change means? I think it's fair to say that only a small percentage of birders are really embracing the need to take 'global warming' or 'climate change' seriously, even though we are more receptive and aware as to the consequences. Why is that?

Firstly, an admission. I have, for the best part of my 'birding time' used a car and sometimes a plane to travel long distances to see birds. It was not unusual to drive 500 miles in a day just to see one bird. My regular patch, for a while, was a 180-mile round trip. This I did without any thought as to what such actions were causing. Admittedly, the hole in the o-zone layer had only recently been discovered and tipping points in our climate breakdown were thought as being way, way off in the future and the talk of mad scientists. But we were aware that exhaust fumes were poisonous, that oil extraction raped wildness and the transportation sometimes polluted coastlines and killed wildlife. But hey, that wasn't my problem, my problem was whether or not I'd be able to get to Cornwall in time to see the Varied Thrush! My own weaning off of over-reliance on the car came about gradually. To begin with, if I'm honest, it was a case of becoming fed up with increased traffic and the boredom that a long car journey would bring. It was also about realising that the importance that I attached to my bird list was waning, and that my sense of 'being' in the birding world did not revolve around how many species I had seen and whether or not I was a 'face'. Once that had kicked in then the need to travel to get my birding fix became weaker and easier to kick.

For others, they are yet to reach that point. For some, it will be that they are still in the infancy of their birding journey and feel that they still need to travel about and hoover up ticks. For others it will be driven by the messages they receive that are still being sent out by the media, with magazines and websites suggesting places to go and things to see regardless of distance and modes of transport. There will be the bloody-minded who do not like the idea that someone is suggesting to them that there is an alternative to the way they bird - the 'it's my life' brigade.

So, if we decide to not travel (or at least not travel on a regular basis) how can we keep on the straight and narrow and not feel that we have given up something good to just plod along in a dull and unrewarding 'new now'? It does take a bit of work, but it is easily done. I will use my own experience as examples of how it can be a brave new world, one that is not only rewarding and inspirational but also helpful towards a better tomorrow for the plant. My birding places are in north Surrey on the London border, comprised downland, woodland, farmland with a little bit of heath - and largely dry! It is not what is considered habitat conducive to good birding. Hopefully I can convince you that it is otherwise.

Rarity. For many birders, rarity is where the thought of 'going local' falls at the first hurdle. How can you find rarities in places where there are few, if any rarity records? Let's just stop thinking of rarity as something that is really rare - so give up on the idea of Collared Flycatcher and think more Pied Flycatcher. Now, I know Pied Flycatchers are not rare, but on my patch they are not annual. If I see a Pied Flycatcher the heights of my expectations have already been reached. And that is not to say that a Collared Flycatcher is impossible. So rarity becomes a sliding scale. I have personally found Bee-eater, Cattle Egret, Quail, Arctic Skua and Bittern within three miles of my front door in the past five years. Rarity is out there, if you accept rarity for what it really means!

Visible migration. No, I cannot sea watch from here in Surrey but I can sky watch, and that can be just as exhilarating! Late summer and early autumns can produced four-figure Swift and hirundine movements. Most late autumns see a heavy thrush passage (of which 26,000 Redwings over the garden in a single morning would have been a highlight anywhere in the UK), with back up from finches, pipits and one or two surprises thrown in. Night-time sessions in the garden have provided my ears with records of Brent Goose, Common Scoter, Teal, Wigeon, Bittern, Bar-tailed Godwit, Ringed Plover... I could go on, and all, remember, over a dry area.

Events. If you watch over areas on a regular basis then you are more likely to pick up on avian events when they occur. It was my fortune to witness the highest counts in the UK of the Hawfinch irruption during Jan-March 2018; to find 1000+ flocks of Brambling in hidden corners of farmland; to come across a tremendous passage of Stonechats with accompanying Dartford Warblers last autumn across nearby downland. Every year is different, offering up experiences that will stay with you for life.

Continuation. Some of the areas I watch have been subject to historical ornithological record collation. Epsom Downs has data from the late-Victorian bird catchers and was avidly watched by a handful of birdwatchers in the 1960s and 70s. These records are now being joined by my own modest submissions. They all help to form an understanding of the bird life that breeds, passes through or winters on site. It helps us (and those in the future) to understand what is going on, in a particular place, with the bird life.

Data gathering. What you see, especially on a rolling basis, is gold dust. I endeavour to upload my counts onto the BTO BirdTrack database, and when completing visible migration watches do the same to the Trektellen website, safe in the knowledge that the data is passed on to the Surrey and London bird recorders, where the annual printed reports will form a place of record.

Joy. You now watch locally, you are not bothered by what is being seen elsewhere (apart from pure interests sake) and the pressure is off. Each time you walk out of the front door, or look out of a window, you are already on your patch! Your birding world starts the minute you wake up, from the Tawny Owl hooting as you lie in your bed to the Redwings calling as you take the rubbish out on an autumn night. In some ways reducing your birding horizons in the physical sense expands them intellectually. It is joyous!

Health. I walk miles. And miles. I'm lucky, as my 64-year old ankles, knees, hips, heart and lungs are still functioning. I do not take any of them for granted. Leaving the car in the driveway keeps me fit. It is also good for the mind. Ohm!

We can choose to do nothing and detach ourselves from any blame as we watch or read the news about severe droughts across the globe, wildfires across tinder dry continents, melting ice-caps and glaciers, rising sea levels, crop failures and famines, mass human migration and the resultant terrible struggles that will accompany all of this, OR we can start, even if we start with baby steps to begin with, to make a difference. Remember, a child may come up to you, very soon, and ask...

"What did you do in the climate crisis"