by Patrick Solomon
Growing up in southwest Arkansas, I started duck hunting at an early age. I was young enough that I was allowed to sit and watch with my boots planted on the banks of an oxbow, just outside of the frigid water, as my dad and brother took to the hunt. My older brother enjoyed hunting waterfowl with much more gusto than I did, and I quickly noticed that he was much more adept at identifying the different species as they cruised by. Where I saw a duck, he spotted a Green-winged Teal (Anas crecca) or a Bufflehead (Bucephala albeola). I could spot a Mallard drake (Anas platyrhynchos) easily enough, but if it was a Mallard hen all bets were off. My mind just could not retain what my eyes had seen long enough to identify the feather patterns and colors in field guides. As soon as I shifted my eyes from the actual bird to the book, my mental picture went blank, and there was nothing to compare with the diagram. To this day, I still have trouble capturing a mental image of a bird and holding on to it long enough to reliably compare that observation with a field guide.
In early summer 2019, I found myself at home helping to care for a newborn. Our schedule was very sporadic: short spurts of intense activity followed by long lapses of quiet naptime. During these quiet reprieves, I started to pay closer attention to the different birds that visited the bird feeder outside our kitchen window. I could easily identify common visitors, like Northern Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) and Tufted Titmice (Baeolophus bicolor) that stopped by to feed. We even had a family of American Robins (Turdus migratorius) nesting above an outdoor porch light.
Yet, I still had trouble noting the distinguishing characteristics of our frequent visitors. One particular bird nested above our front door, but despite how often I saw the bird, I could not form a mental image of the finer details of the bird’s plumage long enough to identify it using the pictures in my field guides. During one opportune nap time, I took photos of the bird and uploaded them to iNaturalist, which I had been using to help identify plants in the field. Within seconds, the iNaturalist app recognized my bird as a Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus). With that ID, suddenly a light went off. As quickly as the app confirmed the ID of the wren, I was able to apply this new tool and expand my knowledge to other birds. Within minutes I was quickly able to identify the defining characteristics of the Carolina Wren compared to the House Sparrow (Passer domesticus).
The advantages of apps like iNaturalist extend into every nook and cranny of the natural world. But for me, the connection the app helped to create between my eyes and my mind as it relates to birds will always stand out as a sort of “struck by lightning” moment. If I can catch even a few blurry photos of a bird, it is likely that the app will be able to help me make the connections to reach an accurate ID.
I recently took this photo (left) at Warren Prairie Natural Area. I was taking a variety of photos when I spotted this bird on a nearby tree. I assumed it was a common wren or sparrow, but iNaturalist’s identification feature recognized it as a Brown Creeper (Certhia americana) – known as an elusive species.
iNaturalist has revolutionized how we learn about our own experiences and observations in nature. Even with a blurry photograph or little to no birding knowledge, an individual can identify and connect with the natural world around them.
Photos:
Photo 1 and Main Photo — The photo that helped identify a Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) with the help of iNaturalist. Photo by Patrick Solomon.
Photo 2 — A blurry photo of a bird at Warren Prairie Natural Area that iNaturalist's identification feature recognized as a Brown Creeper (Certhia americana). Photo by Patrick Solomon.
Growing up in southwest Arkansas, I started duck hunting at an early age. I was young enough that I was allowed to sit and watch with my boots planted on the banks of an oxbow, just outside of the frigid water, as my dad and brother took to the hunt. My older brother enjoyed hunting waterfowl with much more gusto than I did, and I quickly noticed that he was much more adept at identifying the different species as they cruised by. Where I saw a duck, he spotted a Green-winged Teal (Anas crecca) or a Bufflehead (Bucephala albeola). I could spot a Mallard drake (Anas platyrhynchos) easily enough, but if it was a Mallard hen all bets were off. My mind just could not retain what my eyes had seen long enough to identify the feather patterns and colors in field guides. As soon as I shifted my eyes from the actual bird to the book, my mental picture went blank, and there was nothing to compare with the diagram. To this day, I still have trouble capturing a mental image of a bird and holding on to it long enough to reliably compare that observation with a field guide.
In early summer 2019, I found myself at home helping to care for a newborn. Our schedule was very sporadic: short spurts of intense activity followed by long lapses of quiet naptime. During these quiet reprieves, I started to pay closer attention to the different birds that visited the bird feeder outside our kitchen window. I could easily identify common visitors, like Northern Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) and Tufted Titmice (Baeolophus bicolor) that stopped by to feed. We even had a family of American Robins (Turdus migratorius) nesting above an outdoor porch light.
Yet, I still had trouble noting the distinguishing characteristics of our frequent visitors. One particular bird nested above our front door, but despite how often I saw the bird, I could not form a mental image of the finer details of the bird’s plumage long enough to identify it using the pictures in my field guides. During one opportune nap time, I took photos of the bird and uploaded them to iNaturalist, which I had been using to help identify plants in the field. Within seconds, the iNaturalist app recognized my bird as a Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus). With that ID, suddenly a light went off. As quickly as the app confirmed the ID of the wren, I was able to apply this new tool and expand my knowledge to other birds. Within minutes I was quickly able to identify the defining characteristics of the Carolina Wren compared to the House Sparrow (Passer domesticus). The advantages of apps like iNaturalist extend into every nook and cranny of the natural world. But for me, the connection the app helped to create between my eyes and my mind as it relates to birds will always stand out as a sort of “struck by lightning” moment. If I can catch even a few blurry photos of a bird, it is likely that the app will be able to help me make the connections to reach an accurate ID.
I recently took this photo (left) at Warren Prairie Natural Area. I was taking a variety of photos when I spotted this bird on a nearby tree. I assumed it was a common wren or sparrow, but iNaturalist’s identification feature recognized it as a Brown Creeper (Certhia americana) – known as an elusive species. iNaturalist has revolutionized how we learn about our own experiences and observations in nature. Even with a blurry photograph or little to no birding knowledge, an individual can identify and connect with the natural world around them.
Photos:
Photo 1 and Main Photo — The photo that helped identify a Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) with the help of iNaturalist. Photo by Patrick Solomon.
Photo 2 — A blurry photo of a bird at Warren Prairie Natural Area that iNaturalist's identification feature recognized as a Brown Creeper (Certhia americana). Photo by Patrick Solomon.