Bird-banding expert's work helps keep track of species

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BY BETH SORENSEN / For the Lincoln Journal Star

Chickadees are scrappy little birds.

I learned that firsthand on a recent Saturday morning when one bit my ear. I was listening to its rapid little heartbeat at the time.

Red-breasted nuthatches, on the other hand, are pretty calm when you handle them.

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Ruth Green puts a band on a chickadee. Banding enables researchers to track migration patterns and population densities of various species.

Juncos and sparrows may squawk and flutter a bit, but they sit pretty calmly after their initial fuss.

Cardinals dislike being handled wholeheartedly. And they bite a lot harder than chickadees. Those thick, orange-red beaks on an adult male cardinal (juvenile males have black beaks) can really clamp down.

I learned all this at a recent bird-banding event sponsored by the Wachiska Audubon Society of Southeast Nebraska. The expert bird bander on hand was Ruth Green, a retired school teacher from Bellevue.

Every first Saturday of the month, from September through May, Green arrives at the Schramm Park State Recreation Area first thing in the morning. With the help of two apprentices, she sets up several very fine black nets near the bird feeders outside the Ak-Sar-Ben Aquarium building.

Inside, on a table by a window overlooking the feeders, she lays out the tools of her trade: thick, dog-eared bird guides, binders full of forms, a short ruler. She also has a sort of pliers with rounded cutouts that hold the bird bands.

There’s also a long, white painted board. Thin wires stretch the length of the board, the wire ends wrapped around small nails to hold them in place. Each wire holds a long row of tiny metal bands. The larger bands, for cardinals and jays, make up the top row. The smallest bands, for chickadees and the like, are at the bottom.

The bands come in strings of 1,000. The Bird Banding Laboratory in Laurel, Md., sends them to Green, along with the field recording forms. She buys all other supplies herself.

Once everything is set up, she waits inside with those attending the free demonstration. She talks about birds. She offers a homemade cookie. She chats and gets to know the people waiting with her.

When a bird flies into the net, she goes out and retrieves it, then brings it inside for banding. The birds are never harmed, and Green handles them with kid gloves — even when they bite.

It’s fascinating to see the birds up close. Cameras are welcome, and Green will even hold the birds up so attendees can take lots of pictures.

A certified bird bander for more than 30 years, Green knows every bird in the guidebooks. When she catches one for banding, she usually knows exactly what species it is and will tell visitors all sorts of facts while she’s doing her work.

Not just anyone can band birds, of course. You have to have both state and federal permits. You must go through an apprenticeship. You have to know every bird in the guidebooks and know how to tell the age and gender of a bird.

Her two apprentices bring in birds caught in nets behind the building as she works. They put the birds in soft, mesh bags to await banding.

When Green picks up a bird for banding, she records information about it in a logbook, unconcerned about a stray wisp of feather sticking to her pen as she writes.

She spreads the tail feathers to see if the bird has juvenile or adult plumage. She stretches a tiny wing out on a metal ruler to help determine gender.

Then she attaches a numbered metal band on the bird’s tiny leg. Each band contains nine engraved numbers in two rows, four digits on top, five on the bottom. No bird will ever have a band with the same number.

A bird banded in eastern Nebraska might be caught by another bander in Oregon a month later.

The bands are used to help identify individual birds. Banding enables researchers to track migration patterns and population densities of various species. They can then use that information to help analyze the health of entire ecosystems.

Some species, such as sparrows, don’t get banded. Starlings do. Green doesn’t always agree with that practice. If the sparrow population were decimated, she says, there won’t be any record of what happened to them.

Green says she’s noticed the effects of West Nile virus on bird populations. In the past, she usually banded around 3,300 birds in a given year; in 2007, she banded 1,240 birds.

Whether you’re an expert birder or a novice, attending a bird banding is a fascinating experience. Just be sure to keep your fingers, and your ears, safely away from those beaks.

Reach Beth Sorensen at luvcanoes@earthlink.net.