Category Archives: Books & Magazines

Sentinels, or “How Bird Flu Really Got Cookin’” (FSB Book Review)

On New Year’s Eve, 2019, Braden and I visited a refuge called the Hula Valley Nature Reserve in northern Israel (see Braden’s post Winter Birding in Israel, Part II: Valley of the Cranes). Though small by some standards, the reserve holds a remarkable diversity of bird life. Riding around in golf carts under cool, damp skies, we observed 44 species including Pied Avocets, Ruffs, and both Booted and Greater Spotted Eagles. The marquee birds, the ones that attract thousands of visitors each year, were thousands of Common Cranes. In fields surrounding the reserve, we counted more than 2,000 of them—but no doubt missed many more.

In 2019, Braden and I were lucky enough to visit Israel’s fabulous Hula Valley Nature Reserve, where we saw more than 2,000 Common Cranes. Only the following year, the H5N1 bird flu virus swept through the reserve, killing more than 8,000 cranes along with many other birds.

Strikingly, our visit intersected with two important global events. Even as we stood watching the cranes, the COVID-19 virus was silently making its way out of China, poised to ravage the rest of the world. Braden and I, in fact, barely made it home before commercial air traffic ground to a halt.

The second event happened the following year, in 2021, when a virus known as H5N1 exploded across the planet. This virus killed untold millions of wild birds and other animals, including many threatened and endangered species. In northern Israel alone, H5N1 killed 8,000 Common Cranes in the Hula Valley, along with 1.6 million chickens and turkeys in commercial poultry facilities. In his new book Sentinels: When Diseases Spread Between Animals and Humans (Scribe Publications, 2026), author Michael Dulaney writes, “Of all the pathogens I’ve learned about this (H5N1) is the big one . . . It scares me more than anything else.” After reading his book, you may feel the same.

But let us back up a step.

In Sentinels, Delaney focuses on several kinds of diseases, including fungal diseases spread by the wildlife trade and, especially in the case of Valley Fever, our increased contact with and destruction of the environment. He also explores Trench Fever, a louse-borne disease made famous during World War I that is now re-emerging among destitute, unhoused populations around the world. However, Sentinels especially focuses on zoonotic diseases, those that spread between animals and people.

Raptors have been hit especially hard by HPAI—Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza. It remains to be seen how well populations will recover. (Eurasian Kestral shown.)

Lest you think this is a niche topic, according to the CDC, three out of four new diseases in humans originate in animals. They include some of the world’s deadliest: Ebola, coronaviruses such as COVID-19, and H5N1. And if you haven’t already been convinced, the author presents overwhelming evidence that these kinds of diseases represent a significant, global threat to humanity.

As we all have witnessed in recent years, many zoonotic viruses cause human illness and death. However, while popular coverage of zoonotic diseases almost exclusively focuses on wild animals as a threat and source of illness, Sentinels makes clear that the underlying threat isn’t the animals—it is humanity’s rapid destruction of the environment and quest for economic expediency.

Let’s take a look at bird flu.

H5N1 is but one of several types of “bird flu” viruses that health authorities lump together under the name Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza, or HPAI. In his chapter titled “Henfluenza: Bird Flu”, Dulaney explains that H5N1 first emerged in the poultry industry of Southeast Asia in 1996. Since then, many outbreaks have been reported, often killing 100% of affected chickens and other poultry. In some cases, the disease has jumped to humans with deadly results. But in 2021 a new strain leaped from the poultry industry to wild birds, and those birds quickly carried it around the globe. One of the big surprises of this new strain is how, in addition to birds, it infected a wide array of mammal species including cats, foxes, polar bears, and other marine mammals. In Argentina, it killed tens of thousands of elephant seals, a blow from which the species may never recover. Nothing like that had happened in previous outbreaks.

HPAI’s toll on wild birds, though, has been particularly devastating. No one really has any idea of how many wild birds have died as a result of H5N1 and other bird flu viruses, but they have infected at least 500 different bird species and killed millions of birds. More than half of species affected had never before been hit by this group of viruses, and some bird species experienced die-offs that may have long-term consequences for their survival. In just one recent five month span, from September 2025 to January 2026, the US Geological Survey recorded 241 “bird mortality events” in 28 states, killing 126,000 wild birds. In 123 of these events, HPAI was confirmed or suspected as the cause. At the Great Salt Lake, more than 50,000 Eared Grebes died, twice the number of deaths from a similar outbreak the previous year. The USGS reported that this was the fourth year in a row avian influenza had been rampaging through wild bird populations.

We were lucky to visit the Hula reserve with some of our longtime friends, including biologist Avi Lourie (far right), who was a close friend of my late father (Braden’s grandfather). Little did we know how viruses were about to change the lives of both humans and wildlife.

As bird flu continues to circulate around the globe, it continues to devastate both wild and domestic bird populations. It also keeps jumping to humans. According to the CDC website, 72 cases and two deaths in the US have been reported since 2024. But while news outlets and official government websites continue to portray the risks to human health and domestic animals posed by wild birds, they utterly fail to address the underlying causes of bird flu and other zoonotic diseases.

Which is why Sentinels is such an important book. After reading it, you will have no doubt that it is our own actions that facilitate the mutation and spread of zoonotic diseases. Some are facilitated by the destruction of natural habitats, forcing animals into closer proximity to humans. The root cause of bird flu is the manner in which we raise animals for human consumption. While H5N1 once originated in wild bird populations, its ability to jump to other species was most likely severely limited. Factory farming, on the other hand, has been a virus’s dream come true.

In the US alone, 9.4 billion broiler chickens were “produced” in 2025. Egg-laying chickens cranked out 105 billion eggs. The vast majority of these chickens are grown in enormous, cramped facilities, where tens or even hundreds of thousands of birds are packed together in a single building. Chicken production in China dwarfs even these figures, with one facility supposedly containing three million chickens at any given time.

Although farmers and corporations strive to eliminate HPAI viruses, they are now so prevalant that they find their way into industrial, small scale, and backyard farms with shocking frequency. One recent update from the USDA recorded that in just the most recent 30 days, there had been 23 outbreaks affecting 1.25 million birds. Since February 8, 2022, the virus had infected 210 million birds in 2,285 flocks in all fifty states and one territory.

What happens to all of those birds? As you might guess, as soon as a virus is detected, the entire flock is destroyed, and the facility placed under quarantine. In other words, hundreds of millions of chickens, turkeys, and other domestic animals are killed and disposed of each year because of HPAI viruses. Amazingly, the poultry industry can easily absorb this waste while still making vast profits. According to the USDA, in 2025 the combined value of poultry sales, including eggs, was 70.3 billion dollars.

If enough of us change our own food shopping habits and begin applying pressure to our politicians to enforce a more humane, less dangerous industrial meat industry, humans may have a chance to prevent future pandemics caused by zoonotic viruses.

The main point of this is that within these high-density facilities, viruses can and do mutate at lightning speed. With increasing frequency and impact, they also spill over into wild populations of birds and other animals. That means that even if a wild bird species or population adapts to one strain, it is likely—perhaps inevitable—that another, even more virulent strain will come along. This, in fact, is what has been happening, and we may just be seeing the beginning of global pandemics that threaten entire species of birds and mammals, including humans.

Sentinels is a pretty terrifying read because there are no simple fixes to the problems that it highlights, many of which also are exacerbated by climate change. “This puts any writer on this subject in a tough position,” the author laments. “Most people, we are told, want to read good news.” His message, though, is clear: If we want to reduce the risk of zoonotic diseases, we have to do a much better job protecting the environment. We especially need to change the way we produce food. Is this likely? It’s hard to see how, and the author offers few suggestions. I do know that the book has compelled me to redouble my efforts to source food from farms and farmers that place quality, animal welfare, and human health at a greater premium. If enough people read Sentinels and act on its message, it may help turn the wheel toward a healthier future for both birds and humans.

To order Sentinels, CLICK HERE.

The Social Lives of Birds (Book Review)

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With single-digit temperatures in Montana this week, it is still very much book reading season, a time when all birders can—and should—beef up our birding resumés by tapping into the vast wealth of research and experience of the global birding and scientific communities. This past week, I delved into a topic that intrigues most birders by picking up Joan E. Strassmann’s The Social Lives of Birds: Flocks, Communes, and Families (Tarcher, 2025).

Joan Strassmann’s The Social Lives of Birds is packed with delightful revelations for beginning and experienced birders alike. (Click on the cover for ordering info.)

A well-regarded professor and scientist, Strassmann has created a comprehensive resource that introduces readers to almost every aspect of bird society. She begins by answering the simple question “Are Birds Social?” (You can probably guess the answer to that!) Then, chapter by chapter, she explores topics that fascinate beginning birders as much as they do veteran scientists. These include flocking behavior, mixed-species flocks, the predilection of many birds to roost and/or nest in colonies, the pros and cons of nesting and/or roosting together, lekking behavior, and more.

The author devotes an entire chapter to the fascinating and intriguing world of seabird colonies, such as those of one of the world’s most popular birds, the Blue-footed Booby.

I learned something fascinating with each chapter. For instance, I was first drawn to the book because the cover showed a line of six Long-tailed Tits packed tightly together on a branch. I had had the pleasure of observing these birds in the Netherlands (see our post Layover Birding in Amsterdam), Japan (see our post Birding Japan: Kyoto), and Spain (see our post Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core), but had no idea that they lived and foraged in stable flocks that are often built around a main breeding pair and its offspring. In her book, Strassmann recounts a study that showed that on chilly nights, the tits nestle tightly together to stay warm, and that often it is the lowest birds on the “tit totem pole” that have to endure the chillier end positions. This is no trivial matter since the birds lose about 9 percent of their total body mass in a single, chilly night.

After observing Long-tailed Tits in Europe and Asia, I was fascinated to learn more details of their highly social behavior in The Social Lives of Birds.

Similar revelations emerge with every chapter, examining birds from a wide variety of terrestrial and aquatic habitats. My favorite chapter was the last, “Supersocial Groups: Birds That Are Always Together.” That’s probably because it featured one of my favorite birds, the Acorn Woodpecker (see our post College Search Birding in California), and three other species I was fascinated to learn more about: White-winged Choughs, Sociable Weavers, and a bird Braden and I are always delighted to see, Pinyon Jays. Regarding the latter, Braden and I have seen Pinyon Jays only a handful of times here in Montana, and I had wondered why they aren’t more common. Strassmann explains that the birds need extremely large territories to guarantee a dependable food supply. Unfortunately, their main food source, the pinyon pine, has suffered extreme losses from clearing for agriculture and other reasons. Warmer temperatures driven by climate change have also impacted the production of pinyon pine seeds, leading to large-scale die-offs of these beautiful, dynamic, gregarious birds.

Strassmann devotes much of the final chapter on one of Braden’s and my favorite birds, Pinyon Jays, shown here in a cemetery in Helena, Montana.

The Social Lives of Birds struggles a bit over whether it wants to be a comprehensive resource or an engaging narrative in the vein of the recently reviewed The Great Auk or A World on the Wing. The author mentions her personal connections to many of the topics, but I found these more distracting than engaging. Still, that will not prevent readers from enjoying the book and harvesting a wealth of information—knowledge that will help you look at birds with greater understanding and appreciation each time you head out to bird.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Sea of Grass (Book Review)

This week, I’m pleased to announce that I’ve agreed on terms for a new book project with Mountaineers Books, publisher of my books Warblers & Woodpeckers: A Father-Son Big Year of Birding and Birding for Boomers—And Everyone Else Brave Enough to Embrace the World’s Most Rewarding and Frustrating Activity. My new book, scheduled for release in 2028, emerged from the epic birding trip Braden and I took through eastern Montana last summer, and focuses especially on the shortgrass prairie and birds that live there. As is so often the case, I am not the only author to be thinking about this remarkable, highly threatened landscape. Witness the new release, Sea of Grass: The Conquest, Ruin, and Redemption of Nature on the American Prairie (Random House, 2025).

Sea of Grass is required reading for anyone interested in prairie birds and their futures.

In Sea of Grass, authors Dave Hage and Josephine Marcotty have created an impressive work that covers the entire sweep of human understanding and conquest of the American prairie. The authors set the stage by giving us solid background on the richness and diversity of North American grasslands. They recount the geological and climatological conditions that created our great prairies. They give us a glimpse of the remarkable number of species that live both above and below ground, comparing our grasslands favorably to the biodiversity of rainforests and coral reefs. They also explain the incredible amount of carbon that these natural systems sequester.

Grain elevators stand as scenic symbols of the Midwest economy—and of continuing threats to our remaining shortgrass prairie.

What really stands out in the book are the chapters documenting the breathtaking exploitation and destruction of tallgrass prairie, and how technology has managed both to raise agricultural production and create almost unimaginable environmental problems. Even as someone who has followed environmental issues all of my life, I learned an astonishing amount. Have you ever heard of tile drainage? I hadn’t, but it is a drainage system that not only allows farmers to raise abundant crops on otherwise unsuitable land, but mightily contributes to funneling harmful fertilizers and pesticides into rivers, lakes, wells, and other water sources throughout the Midwest. Scientists have established clear links between agricultural practices and the enormous dead zones that occur every year in the Gulf of Mexico. Meanwhile, hundreds of cities such as Des Moines have to spend millions—probably billions—of dollars to try to remove harmful fertilizer residues from drinking water supplies.

The authors explain that while Iowa and other Midwest states have lost virtually all of their original tallgrass prairie to agricultural conversion, the arid nature of the shortgrass prairie traditionally rendered it unsuitable for growing crops. Instead, cattle was king on these lands—including much of the Dakotas, Montana, and Wyoming. Alas, genetic engineering and other technologies have now opened up these fragile, dry lands to farming. I had thought that the great era of prairie conversion had ended, but in the US we are now losing more than one million grassland acres to the plow every year.

The loss of more than a million acres of shortgrass prairie to farming each year not only threatens grassland birds like this Upland Sandpiper, but an ecosystem with a diversity rivaling that of tropical forests and coral reefs.

For anyone who cares about the incredible diversity found in these grasslands—including its remarkable suite of grassland birds—this is horrible news indeed. It also sheds a positive light on the importance of sustainable cattle ranching and “keeping grass in grass,” as one Montana biologist puts it. What makes the situation especially frustrating is that conversion of grasslands to cropland isn’t primarily driven by demand for food, but by billions of dollars of tax breaks, mandates, and other government subsidies for growing corn to produce ethanol. These subsidies arose from efforts to help America achieve energy independence. Instead, they have helped create a system that continues to destroy natural ecosystems while creating immense quantities of a product that we simply don’t need (see, for instance, this report from Wisconsin). Unfortunately, by driving up corn prices, the ethanol boondoggle has made many corn growers extremely wealthy and politically powerful, almost eliminating the possibility of rolling back this pork barrel waste of taxpayer dollars.

99% of Iowa’s tallgrass prairie was lost to agricultural conversion. Today, wasteful government farm subsidies for ethanol help drive the rapid loss of shortgrass prairie in Montana and other states.

Fortunately, the authors don’t leave us with a totally grim outlook for America’s remaining grasslands. Throughout the book, but especially in the final section, the authors detail a number of small-scale efforts to protect and restore grasslands as well as to reduce the incredible environmental costs of modern-day agricultural methods. In Montana, these range from the creation of American Prairie to the practice of rotational cattle grazing to tribal and ranching successes reintroducing bison back onto the landscape. I don’t want to reveal too much, but I’m confident you’ll find these and other efforts as fascinating and hopeful as I have.

Scientist Diane Debinski searching for rare butterflies at Iowa’s Neal Smith National Wildlife Refuge, one of a handful of projects to restore tallgrass prairie habitat. This project was the subject of my 2005 book, The Prairie Builders.

Although it gives fairly brief coverage to grassland birds, if you care about grassland birds—not to mention bison and grassland ecosystems in general—Sea of Grass is absolutely required reading. Especially if you live in or near the Great Plains, it provides vital insights into the huge economic and cultural forces at work in our region. As a bonus, the authors’ clean, entertaining writing style help make this one of the most worthwhile books you are likely to crack open this year.

Summary: A fascinating crash course on the biological, economic, and cultural history of America’s grasslands and the growing efforts to protect what’s left of these remarkable ecosystems.

Habitats of Africa: A Field Guide for Birders, Naturalists, and Ecologists (Book Review)

To Order, Click Here: https://press.princeton.edu/books/paperback/9780691244761/habitats-of-africa

I’m excited to be heading off to Texas in a few days, to promote my book Birding for Boomers, but also to squeeze in a few days of birding. Before I go, I want to share an exciting new book that will interest anyone who has ever dreamed about visiting Africa. Braden loved a previous book, Habitats of the World, by two of the co-authors, and this follow-up is also full of fascinating facts and insights. Oh, and in case you missed it, you’ll want to read last week’s outstanding guest post by Roger Kohn, “Cock-of-the-Rock Extravaganza—with Video!” Enjoy!

When I first opened my review copy of Habitats of Africa, I thought, “How on earth did the authors put together such a comprehensive guide to such a vast and ecologically diverse continent?” I next wondered how, as a reader, I might possibly absorb the immense amount of information packed into this handsome volume. The answer to the first question is that all three authors have worked as professional nature guides, with extensive experience in Africa. As for the second? I could only answer that by diving in.

Habitats of Africa: A Field Guide for Birders, Naturalists, and Ecologists by Ken Behrens, Keith, Barnes, and Iain Campbell (Princeton University Press)

The table of contents reveals that Habitats of Africa covers an astonishing seventy-plus different habitats, and honestly, that alone could be overwhelming to the beginning reader. The TOC, though, also provides good clues for how the book is arranged and is therefore worth a few moments of time.

Habitats are organized under a dozen headings, ranging from “Deserts and Arid Lands” and “Warm Humid Broadleaf Forests” to “Savannas” and “Saline Habitats.” The first habitat I read was the Maghreb fir and cedar forest, one of four habitats listed under the “Conifers” heading. I probably started with this one because I don’t usually think about conifer forests growing in Africa. They do, of course, but their ranges are extremely limited, and I wanted to know more about them.

Even those who have never visited Africa easily recognize many of the continent’s distinctive habitats such as this acacia-clad savanna my wife Amy and I observed on our trip to Ethiopia in 2005. This is one of eight distinct kinds of savannas explained in Habitats of Africa.

The listing began with a nice map of where these forests can be found, and then followed with a concise but revealing description of the forest itself. Surprising phrases kept leaping out at me: “Atlas Cedar”, “clusters of oaks”, “winter snowpack”. I mean, where was I, anyway? This sounded more like California than Africa. One of the nice things about the book, however, is that it lists similar forest types found elsewhere in Africa and around the world—including the pinyon-juniper woodland of western North America.

Lamentably, Amy and I visited Africa before I became a birder, but I accidentally managed to take a few bird photos with my point-and-shoot camera, including this magnificent African Fish-Eagle.

After the description, the authors include accounts of a habitat’s conservation status, the particular wildlife that can be found there; and its distribution—including specific places to see it. I found the wildlife sections especially well-done because the authors focused on endemic and other high-interest species while not overloading the reader with information. As a birder, for instance, I discovered that the avifauna of the Maghreb fir and cedar forest shares similarities to what I have observed in the Levant and southern Europe (see posts “Winter Birding in Israel, Part II: Valley of the Cranes” and “Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core”)—but that there are also different species such as the Levaillant’s Woodpecker and Atlas Flycatcher.

African Sacred Ibis and Marabou Stork attracted to a fish market at a lake south of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

There’s no getting around that the conservation status for most of the habitats is alarming. It’s hard to find a habitat in which humans haven’t made a major impact, especially given Africa’s rapidly-growing human population. In fact, the book includes eight habitats under its “Anthropogenic” heading—those with little of their original ecosystems intact. Although depressing on one hand, this conservation information provides a good picture of what is going on in the continent—trends that are distressingly similar to those experienced in many of the world’s other places, including North America. I also found it interesting to read why some habitats appear to be faring better than others. For instance, of southern Africa’s succulent karoo habitat—a habitat I’d never heard of—the authors write, “With limited agricultural potential and not much grass, the land in this biome is not highly sought after for human activity, but there has beeen significant sheep grazing and subsequent erosion.”

Ethiopia’s burgeoning population and pervasive poverty force livestock owners to illegally graze, even in places such as Bale National Park, one of the last strongholds of the Ethiopian Wolf.

The problem with reading about one habitat, however, is that it immediately made me curious to learn about others. The Maghreb fir and cedar forest discussion, for instance, mentioned that the forest peters out on the southern mountain slopes draining into the Sahara. “But what’s the Sahara really like?” I wondered, so I soon found myself reading up on one of the world’s most inhospitable places, the Saharan reg desert. This is a place that often receives less than one inch of rainfall each year—and where places can go years without seeing a drop. Yet, life persists here. Although much of the large megafauna has been hunted out, fascinating animals such as sand cats and fennec foxes survive, along with an incredible collection of small mammals and reptiles. This is a good place to mention that the book is filled with outstanding photos of the habitats and their various life forms, and in this chapter a photo of Cream-colored Courser caught my eye. Why? Because it looked almost identical to the Mountain Plovers we have in the arid West!

Amy and I were fortunate to see Ethiopian wolves in one of their last strongholds, a high-altitude habitat called afroparamo in Bale National Park. Already by our visit in 2005, grazing in the park (see previous photo) threatened the outlook for the wolves and the giant mole rats that serve as one of their major prey.

That said, one thing the book showed me is that, although similarities can be found between African and other world habitats, many of the ecosystems in Africa are unique—especially if you compare them to North America. And that can have a strange impact on a reader.

If you have any doubts about the uniqueness of many of Africa’s ecosystems, all you have to do is look at this lobelia tree in Ethiopia’s Bale National Park. The trees reminded me of Joshua trees in the American Southwest, and I can’t help thinking that the two trees might represent a striking case of convergent evolution.

I have only ever been to Africa once, during a school visit to Ethiopia in 2005. What’s more, I thought it unlikely I would ever have a chance to visit again. As I read through Habitats of Africa, however, I kept thinking, “Oh, I want to see that,” and “I want to go there.” It doesn’t mean I will get to, but reading this book may be the next best thing. More than all of the nature documentaries I’ve watched, this volume has given me a plausible idea of the incredible diversity of places and nature that can be seen there. As a birder in particular, it’s also given me a much better idea of the birds that I especially would like to see. It’s a stretch to call the book casual reading, but for anyone interested in nature, or planning their own trip to Africa, it is a well worth your time. If I ever get a chance to return to Africa, you can bet that I’ll be spending even more time with this impressive publication.

Note: Along with the extensive photographs and distribution maps, Habitats of Africa includes a wealth of climate charts, profile sketches, and topical sidebars that enhance the reader’s understanding of each habitat.

One-Sentence Summary: An eye-opening crash course on the nature of perhaps the world’s least understood continent.

Overall Rating (on a scale of cool birds): Rüppell’s Griffon (highest)

You can order Habitats of Africa from your local independent bookstore, or directly from Princeton University Press. Please tell them we sent you!

(Except for the cover image, photos in this post are copyright Sneed B. Collard III. Review copy of Habitats of Africa provided by the publisher.)

The Shorebirds of North America (Book Review)

With spring shorebird migration coming on, we take a break from our Colombian birding series to review a new book that will help prepare you for the exciting, sometimes daunting task of identifying and enjoying some of the world’s most spectacular long-distance migrants. Bird—and read—on!

Legions of FatherSonBirding readers have probably noticed that Braden and I have increasingly become interested—nay, obsessed—by shorebirds over the years. See, for example, our posts

Montana Shorebird Surprise

Abbotts Lagoon, Point Reyes National Seashore (or Chasing Migrants, Part II)

Our fascination may seem odd given that Montana is hardly the world’s epicenter of shorebird activity. Then again, their very rarity here renders them all the more alluring to find and learn about. A natural birding progression also is at work. When beginning one’s birding journey, we birders naturally focus on common, familiar species. As confidence, curiosity, and ambition grow, so does the desire to learn about and identify more difficult groups of birds. When we first began birding, Braden and I focused on woodpeckers, thrushes, waterfowl, waders, owls, and other easier-to-identify species. Over the years, we have plunged into increasingly challenging groups including warblers, sparrows, flycatchers (Braden), gulls, and perhaps more than anything, “shorbs.”

A flock of Western Sandpipers at Point Reyes during my September visit to California with Scott Callow.

When out scanning beaches or shallow lakes, the most common phrase Braden repeats to me is “Shorebirds are tough.” This usually happens when I am whining about the difficulty in distinguishing between off-season Least and Semipalmated Sandpipers, or White-rumped and Baird’s Sandpipers—especially at a distance. But many shorbs are relatively easy to identify, and over the years both Braden and I have come to appreciate—nay, savor—the entire breadth of these fascinating, superbly adapted critters. Imagine my joy, then, when a brand new, beautifully photographed book about shorebirds arrived on my doorstep: Pete Dunne’s and Kevin T. Karlson’s The Shorebirds of North America: A Natural History and Photographic Celebration (Princeton University Press, 2024).

The Shorebirds of North America by Pete Dunne and Kevin T. Karlson (Princeton University Press, 2024)

To say that The Shorebirds of North America is ambitious would be like calling the 18,000-mile round-trip migration of a Red Knot “neat” instead of “epic” or “mind-blowing.” This terrific addition to birding literature not only gives a wonderful overview of the lives of shorebirds, it provides specific accounts of all the shorebirds likely to interest you. That makes this book a wonderful, highly readable reference for both beginning and advanced birders.

The bulk of the book consists of species accounts of 52 kinds of shorebirds known to breed in North America and my guess is that you, like me, will skip directly to species that happen to interest you at the present time. This is a great approach. One of the first shorebirds I looked up was Black-bellied Plover, a bird I have become more and more enthralled with the past several years. As I started to read, my understanding of this handsome creature immediately swelled. I didn’t realize, for instance, that it is one of the world’s most widely distributed shorebirds, or that it is called Grey Plover outside of North America. What really tickled me was learning how fearlessly aggressive these birds can be:

“On the high Arctic tundra breeding grounds,” the authors write, “this sturdy plover is a fierce protector of its large nest area, and it strikes fear into aerial predators as large as gulls and jaegers. Woe to any flying predator if it hears the whistled alarm call of Black-bellied Plover as it flies swift and low across the tundra before rising to spear the intruder in the belly with its strong bill . . .”

The 4-letter breeding code for Black-bellied Plovers is BBPL. After reading the entry for the bird in The Shorebirds of North America, however, I realized that BBPL could easily stand for “Bad-ass-bellied Plover”.

Who knew that one of my favorite birds is such a bad-ass? Similarly delightful “reveals” can be found in each account, many of them based on the authors’ own personal and scientific experiences with the birds.

Far from just being pretty to look at, the book’s incredible photos add real understanding of each species by showing them in a variety of plumages and situations. I enjoyed just quizzing myself on the photos as I made my way through the book, testing and expanding my knowledge as I went. I cannot imagine the effort Kevin T. Karlson and the book’s other photographers invested in creating what may be the world’s finest collection of shorebird photos.

Another thing I learned from The Shorebirds of North America is that the bills of oystercatchers are laterally compressed. You can’t tell this from the typical side view, but this compression turns the bills into excellent chisels for prying limpets, snails, and chitons off of rocks.

As delightful as the species accounts are, I strongly urge readers to read the entire first section straight through. In this section, the authors provide excellent perspective on all shorebirds including their remarkable adaptations, habits, diversity, and evolution. Fascinating anecdotes abound, such as the story of B-95, a banded Red Knot known to have traveled more than 400,000 miles during his 21-year lifetime. The authors don’t bother to hide their admiration for these birds:

“Challenged to design the perfect bird, we would without hesitancy delve into ranks of shorebirds and reach down to the Scolopacidae (sandpipers), the largest of the roughly six or seven family groups in the shorebird order Charadriiformes.”

Another fascinating fact I picked up from The Shorebirds of North America is that the curved bills of Long-billed Curlews are almost perfectly designed to snatch fiddler crabs from their long, curved burrows. They’re also great for picking off grasshoppers without alerting them to their imminent doom.

I could keep singing this book’s praises, but really, if you have even the tiniest, nascent interest in shorebirds, you should order a copy yourself. Given its length and full-color format, I expected the book to sell for at least fifty or sixty bucks, but at the time of this posting it can be had for a bargain $35. That puts it within reach of most people—and makes it an investment in your birding future you won’t regret.

One-Sentence Summary: A highly-readable, indispensable resource for both beginning and advanced shorebird enthusiasts.

Overall Rating (on a scale of cool birds): Piping Plover (highest)

You can order The Shorebirds of North America from your local independent bookstore, or directly from Princeton University Press. Please tell them we sent you!

(Except for the cover image, photos in this post are copyright Sneed B. Collard III. Review copy of The Shorebirds of North America provided by the publisher.)