Published by Columbia University Press, the book is edited by former US Poet Laureate Billy Collins and features the paintings of well-known illustrator David Sibley.  The compact, duodecimo volume (about 7 1/2 [...]]]> Earlier this winter, I received a copy of a new anthology of bird verse called Bright Wings: an Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds.

Published by Columbia University Press, the book is edited by former US Poet Laureate Billy Collins and features the paintings of well-known illustrator David Sibley.  The compact, duodecimo volume (about 7 1/2 by 5 3/4 inches) weighs in at 268 pages, packing a lot of poetry into a small package.  The book contains 113 poems, selected by Collins and arranged in taxonomic order by bird subject, along with 58 David Sibley plates.

Collins has long been one of my favorites, because his work is incredibly accessible and imaginative without sacrificing depth, nuance, and technical proficiency.  My copies of Sailing Alone Around the Room (2001) and Nine Horses (2002) are especially well-worn.  But what surprised me when I heard about Bright Wings was that as much as I enjoy reading Billy Collins, I’ve never thought of him as a nature poet.  When Collins’s poems deal with nature, they often do so through an oddly-shaped keyhole of imagination.  It is the poet’s creation, rather than the original external image, that is most memorable in his work.  Rather than channel nature in all its force with the mystical lyricism of a Mary Oliver, he chooses the seemingly ordinary moment or scene and sends it spinning off headlong into an internal litany of thought and image that, more often than not, somehow finds a way to settle down into the profound.  So it was with great curiosity that I opened Bright Wings to find out how this unique poet approached the task of compiling a book of bird poems.  My hope was that this collection would be much more than the usual trotting out of “classic” avian verse.

In the book’s introduction, Collins lives up to expectations by summarily bashing the “school of wistfulness” that so aptly describes much Romantic bird poetry of the 19th century.  “[A] reader of nineteenth-century poetry,” he writes, “might get the impression that poets are incapable of seeing a creature with wings without yelling ‘Hark!’”  In the name of a fresh approach,  Collins disclaims his omission of “many of the obvious choices” with “no editorial regrets”.  This will be a collection, the editor assures us, that will shine light on some relatively unknown poets, and will lean toward the contemporary, toward the undercutting of tired conventions, away from the sentimental wistfulness of the Romantics.  In support of his point, the only poem included in its entirety in the introduction is “The Swan at Edgewater Park”, a poem by Ruth Schwartz in which the beauty of a swan that inhabits filthy urban waters is compared to that of a young mother with a dead-end job and a dysfunctional relationship.  It’s not often that swans and used condoms are invoked in the same image.

But this book is no mere showcase of counter-convention.  Some standards are included, like Hardy’s “The Darkling Thrush”, Keats’s “Song”, a couple of selections from Dickinson, and Wallace Stevens’s “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”.  Chaucer, Whitman, Wordsworth, Tennyson, the Brownings, Emerson, and Thoreau are all represented by single selections.  While these add context, contemporary poets supply the real meat of the anthology.  Mark Jarman has three poems included here, all of which I enjoy because they manage to be very good poems without sacrificing accessibility or ornithological accuracy.  “Chimney Swifts” is my favorite: “To them, there are two worlds – / The soot-thick shaft and the silky bowl of sky.”  For astuteness of observation, John Updike’s “Seagulls” stands out to me: “A gull, up close, / looks surprisingly stuffed. / His fluffy chest seems filled / with an inexpensive taxidermist’s material / rather lumpily inserted.”  There are also some lesser-known gems to be found here.  “The Cardinal” by Henry Carlile is spare and efficient, but miraculously just-right for anyone who knows the bird: “He shocks us when he flies / like a red verb over the snow.”

The plates are watercolors, found on left-hand pages facing a corresponding poem.  One annoyance for the seasoned naturalist is that the bird illustrated in the facing plate does not always match the bird being described in the poem.  For instance, Elizabeth Bishop’s fine poem “The Sandpiper” is clearly based upon a Sanderling, a denizen of ocean beaches.  The plate used is a Buff-breasted Sandpiper, which prefers turf farms and plowed fields in migration, and would never be found on a beach!  In most cases the mismatch is pointed out in the plate caption with a statement such as “The Great-crested Flycatcher in the poem is a more modest-looking bird than this spectacular Scissor-tailed Flycatcher.”  For those readers not familiar with the birds, this may not be a problem, but for me, the mismatched plates are a bit of a distraction from my mental image of the poem.  Still, the paintings are mostly compelling, and Sibley fans will enjoy a certain looseness of form in these watercolors, freed as they are from the strictures of painstaking field mark illustration that Sibley’s field guide plates are known for.  While a small handful of the illustrations (American Coot, Brown Pelican, and Ring-necked Pheasant) miss the mark, many more are excellent (Turkey Vulture, Lesser Yellowlegs, Cliff Swallow, Cedar Waxwing, to name just a few).

The book’s final poem, “Rara Avis” by southern California poet Brendan Constantine, is included as a sort of coda of counter-convention, and can only be described as bizarre.  Constantine is an acclaimed “guerilla poet” and this poem derisively describes a series of reported behaviors of “the birdwatchers” upon being interviewed: “When interviewed, the bird watchers ate crow. / When interviewed the bird watchers refused / to discuss themselves, preferring to debate / recent observations of the Dope Warbler, / the Spoon Tailed Ninny, the Royal Bavarian / Snack Rail…”  It gets worse.  “When interviewed, the bird watchers turned / on each other.  It was ugly, like a stoning.”  After 39 lines of increasingly unlikely and deranged behaviors on the part of the bird watchers, line 40 reads simply, “The birds could not be reached for comment.”  Other than offending birders, I’m still not sure I get what Constantine is going for here, but I think I see why Collins chose to include the poem.  It’s a wry and forceful reminder that despite the thousands of words we spend describing them, classifying them, longing to be like them, and generally getting worked up over them, we sometimes forget that the birds themselves are, after all, the story.  And they aren’t talking.

With Bright Wings, Collins hits his mark, bringing us a fresh and thought-provoking anthology.  Many of the included poems use the avian moment to pick a lock on something uniquely human, and once that door is opened, the poem slips readily over the threshold.  This makes the anthology only partly a celebration of birds for what they are, and partly a vehicle for introspection for us, through so many avian mirrors.  There are many fine poems here, and the book should earn a space on the shelf of any naturalist with an abiding interest in literature.  If that naturalist is a closet poetry connoisseur, so much the better!

Bright Wings is available from Columbia University Press.

Also, you may want to swing by The Well-read Naturalist for John Riutta’s take on the book, or check out Corey’s review at 10,000 Birds.

Title: Bright Wings: an Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds
Editor: Billy Collins
Illustrator:David Allen Sibley
Publisher: Columbia University Press
Date of publication: November, 2009
ISBN: 978-0-231-15084-2

Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided by the publisher.

For this edition of I and the Bird, I decided to see what quotations from verse and literature would be invoked by the various submissions that I received.

In the spirit of several earlier IATB efforts that made use of found [...]]]> Welcome to the 113th Edition of I and the Bird!  I hope you enjoy your visit.

For this edition of I and the Bird, I decided to see what quotations from verse and literature would be invoked by the various submissions that I received.

In the spirit of several earlier IATB efforts that made use of found poetry (Dave Bonta and Liza Lee Miller come to mind) and quotations (Clare Kines did a nice job with this too), here’s what I put together this time around.  Mind you, it’s not easy to find literature relating to some of these species, so its quite a mixed bag, with sources as diverse as our contributors!

Coincidentally, while working on this post, I received a copy of a new anthology of bird poems, Bright Wings: An Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds, edited by Billy Collins, and illustrated by David Sibley.  I’ll be posting a review of this volume here soon – stop by next week to check it out.

T & S at Walk The Wilderness posted stunning photos of Grey Heron and other waders.

So heavy
is the long-necked, long-bodied heron,
always it is a surprise
when her smoke-colored wings

open
and she turns
from the thick water,
from the black sticks

of the summer pond,
and slowly
rises into the air
and is gone.

Mary Oliver
from “Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond”

Christian at Christian Artuso: Birds, Wildlife submitted a great overview of the major groups of frugivorous birds.

In huckle-berry fields I see the seeds of berries recently left on the rocks where birds have perched.  How many of these small fruits they may thus disseminate!

H.D. Thoreau
Journal.  Aug 2, 1860

Greg at Greg Laden’s Blog reports on a Golden Eagle sighting in Minnesota.

He wheels about burning
in the red sun
climbs and glides
and doubles back upon himself
now over ocean
now over land
high over pinwheels stuck in sand
where a rollercoaster used to stand

soaring eagle setting sun
All that is left of our wilderness

Lawrence Ferlinghetti
from “Seascape with Sun and Eagle”

Duncan at Ben Cruachan pays a call to the reed warblers and others at Flooding Creek.

high noon -
the reed-warbler sings
to the silent river

Koboyashi Issa

Amber at Birder’s Lounge features a flicker and a sapsucker, among other birds from her Missouri trip.

His bill an auger is,
His head, a cap and frill.
He laboreth at every tree, –
A worm his utmost goal.

Emily Dickinson
from “The Woodpecker”

Bronwen at A Snail’s Eye View was lucky enough to catch a displaying riflebird on camera!

I’m woken by the rifle bird’s song -
some notes I know well.

Geoffrey Lehmann
from “The Rifle Bird’s Song”

YC Wee at the Bird Ecology Study Group Blog submitted Walad Jamaludin’s stunning photos of Whitehead’s Trogon.

But a trogon’s natural instinct is to sit on a branch, deep inside
the green-leafed tree with the berries & hold pefectly still & upright -
its long slaty tail wavering ever so slightly in the breeze.  Or
to rise & flap against a backdrop of white sky, where just as you try
to grasp the brilliant & quick presence of it, it disappears.

Marcia Southwick
from “A Portrait of Larry with Trogons”

The Ridger at The Greenbelt encountered a large flock of robins and waxwings.

They love to party. Sometimes they get so drunk

on overripe berries they keel over
and then have to sleep it off.
The branches they flocked on bobbed and sagged, and the air
was full of their gleeful gibberish.
Not one of them weighed more than an ounce.

Jonathan Aaron
from “Cedar Waxwings”

Jan at Jan Axel’s Blog presents a gallery of hummingbirds from the western highlands of Panama.

…through our woodbines, wet with glittering dews,
The flower-fed Humming-bird his round pursues;
Sips, with inserted tube, the honied blooms,
And chirps his gratitude as round he roams.
While richest roses, though in crimson dress’d,
Shrink from the splendour of his gorgeous breast;
What heavenly tints in mingling radiance fly;
Each rapid movement gives a different dye;
Like scales of burnish’d gold, they dazzling show,
Now sink to shade – now like a furnace glow!

Alexander Wilson
from “Dawn (The Humming-Bird)”

Rick at Aimophila Adventures describes an interesting apparent hybrid sapsucker.

The elder took the lid off a little round basket.
After he had opened up five nested one inside the another,
he presented him with feathers for his wings.
Oooooooooh my!

Then he gave him tailfeathers too.
Then he shaped him with his hands.
He colored the upper part of him red.

Then he said to him,

“Now, my little grandson, you should go.
This is why you have been with me.”

Then we went back out,
and then he flew,
and then he did the same thing as before.
He clutched the tree,
and then he struck it with his beak.

from a Haida myth about the Sapsucker
from STLUUJAGADANG [The Qquuna Cycle, § 2.3]
Skaay of the Qquna Qiighawaay
In Robert Bringhurst. A story as sharp as a knife: the classical Haida mythtellers and their world.  U. of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, NE, 1999.

Summer at Foovay’s Cauldron features a Cassin’s Kingbird, and discusses the birds she has traded since moving west.

The whole world is a green clock
ticking away. We stop at a line of

poplars. A kingbird skims a branch,
waving the white handkerchief of his spread

tail. …

Kyoko Mori
from “The Slowness of Trees
(for my mother)”

Esther at Esther Garvi recounts birding adventures in Niger, including the gorgeous Abyssinian Roller.

Of a changeful hue, now green, now blue,
Like the breast of the ocean are thy plumes,
And lands remote have heard thy note
Break the stillness deep of their forest glooms;
And year by year though comest here
In the gentle spring and the autumn-tide…

from “The Song of the Maltese to the Roller”
H.G.A.
In Charles Henry Poole.  A Treasury of Bird Poems. Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, & Kent, London, 1911.

Jo at J.M. Oudesluys recollects her “spark bird”, the European Starling!

In this month of rains,
On a drying road where the poplars march along,
Suddenly,
With a rush of wings flew down a company,
A multitude, throng upon throng,
Of starlings,
Successive orchestras of wind-blown song,
Whirled, like a babble of surf,
On to the roadside turf -

Ford Madox Ford
from “The Starling”

Mike at 10,000 Birds just returned from an enviable adventure in Jamaica.

Save one little Tody, in brilliant green,
With delicate hues of a glossy soft sheen,
Who answered the Toucan in accents demure :
“Your beak is a wonder! but don’t be too sure,
It cannot be equalled or even excelled
By birds, my good sir, whom you never beheld!”

from “The Toucan, Hornbill and Green Tody”
R.M. Ingersley
In Charles Henry Poole  A Treasury of Bird Poems. Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, & Kent, London, 1911.

Andy Gibb at Andy Gibb: Twitching with Transformation got reacquainted with Eurasian Tree Sparrows on a recent outing.

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.
I started—seeming to espy
The home and sheltered bed,
The Sparrow’s dwelling, which, hard by
My Father’ house, in wet or dry
My sister Emmeline and I
Together visited.

William Wordsworth
from “The Sparrow’s Nest”

Amila at Gallicissa shares some lovely photos of peacock, storks, prinias, babblers and other birds.  Oh – and mammals too!

Each turquoise and purple, black-horned, walleyed quill
Comes quivering forward, an amphitheatric shell
For his most fortunate audience: her alone.

David Wagoner
from “Peacock Display”

Dave at Dave Ingram’s Natural History Blog reminds us to participate in Cornell’s Project Feederwatch.  The bushtits coming to his feeder are reminder enough for him.

This wee bird has no distinction—past
a tiny probing bill small as a thistle seed—
other than intent companionable merriness
as he makes his flitting circuit trailing
clan from apple tree to suet, fir and oak.

Deb at Stoney Moss
from “Bushtit”

Susannah at Wanderin’ Weeta reports on the “gardening” behavior of a flicker.

when I look up from
my mind I see what
you are: feather-hooded,
mustached, gripped
to the steady perch;

an idea of the lower
altitudes sparged
with color, a tuber
of claws and wings
and an eye unmarred.

Michael Collier
from “Common Flicker”

Connie at Birds o’ the Morning is ready to welcome back her snowbirds!

Listen! listen! hear them call,
While the snows around them fall;
Searching now for seeds so small,
Swinging on the brown weeds tall.

Bless these birds in slate and gray;
We will watch them ev’ry day,
For no fear of snow have they.
Do you know what Juncos say?

There are eight species of this common Snowbird within the limits of the United States but nearly all are found on mountains white with snow. Our Juncos come in September and remain until April and the cheery, hardy visitor is very welcome. During the coldest days they will come to the house or barn for food, for hunger makes them very brave, but they usually remain in vacant lots and gather their harvest from the weeds.

from ABC of Birds
Mary Catherine Judd
A.W. Mumford, Chicago, 1916.

Seabrooke at The Marvelous in Nature has been spending some time appreciating her feeder birds too, Chickadees included.

Hardy, active, social, a winter bird no less than a summer, a defier of both frost and heat, lover of the pine-tree, and diligent searcher after truth in the shape of eggs and larvae of insects, preeminently a New England bird, clad in black and ashen gray, with a note the most cheering and reassuring to be heard in our January woods…

John Burroughs
from “Birds and Poets”

John at Kind of Curious uses a Eurasian Eagle-Owl to tell us a little something about owl eyes.

Come out and hear the owls shout
In the still and dewy night-hour;
The moon a fading white flower
Hangs low, with mists about.

Like pale moths, along the hedge
Withering bindweed lies;
Night looks in with hollow eyes,
Dim at the window-ledge.

Rose Arresti
from “Owl-Light”
In Charles Henry Poole  A Treasury of Bird Poems. Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, & Kent, London, 1911.

Jason at Xenogere shares some great photos of several sparrow species.

O quick quick quick, quick hear the song-sparrow,
Swamp-sparrow, fox-sparrow, vesper-sparrow
At dawn and dusk.  Follow the dance
Of goldfinch at noon.

T.S. Eliot
from “Cape Ann”

Dan at Migrations discusses speciation vs. creation in a birding context.

In their habits I cannot point out a single difference; — They are lively inquisitive, active run fast, frequent houses to pick the meat of the Tortoise, which is hung up, — sing tolerably well; are said to build a simple open nest. — are very tame, a character in common with the other birds: I imagined however its note or cry was rather different from the Thenca of Chile? — Are very abundant, over the whole Island; are chiefly tempted up into the high & damp parts, by the houses & cleared ground.

I have specimens from four of the larger Islands; the two above enumerated, and (3349: female. Albermarle Isd.) & (3350: male: James Isd). — The specimens from Chatham & Albermarle Isd appear to be the same; but the other two are different. In each Isld. each kind is exclusively found: habits of all are indistinguishable.

Charles Darwin
from Darwin’s Ornithological Notes.
Nora Barlow, ed. Bulletin of the British Museum (Natural History). Historical Series Vol. 2 No. 7. LONDON: 1963

Nate at The Drinking Bird posts his thoughts about revitalizing bird clubs for a new generation.

The first annual report of the Brush Hill Bird Club gives a list of thirty-seven bird clubs, located chiefly in New England. The annual report of the National Association of Audubon Societies gives a list of twenty bird clubs affiliated with the National Association. Mr. Ernest Harold Baynes, who has been the prime factor in this movement, has organized about sixty bird clubs; so that there are probably about one hundred bird clubs to be found in the United States.

The organization of a bird club enables those interested in birds to work more effectively than would be possible individually, and many people who are not acquainted with birds are interested in the opportunity for doing public service through the conservation of valuable birds. Interest may be aroused by having some one deliver a lecture on birds. A club may be organized at the close of such a lecture. Details regarding the methods to be used are given in Mr. Ernest Harold Baynes’s “Wild Bird Guests.”

One interesting result of these bird clubs has been the effect upon the communities in which they have been organized. Frequently a feeling of indifference to bird life has been changed to one of enthusiasm for bird-protection. In some cases the club has served as a center of general interest for the whole town and has been a means of arousing a community spirit.

from Gilbert H. Trafton.
Bird Friends: a complete bird book for Americans.
Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 1916

The next I and the Bird (#114) will be hosted on 12/3/09 at The Life of a Bird Tour Leader.  Please contribute your submissions and pay a visit.

A note on copyright. Some of the works quoted here are in the public domain, while others may be protected under copyright.  I share the limited poetry quotations in this edition of I and the Bird in the spirit of bringing together the art, words, and photos of talented individuals from different times and places in the common enjoyment and appreciation of birds.  I have been careful to attribute each quote to its author, and I realize no financial or commercial gain from the appearance of this material on my web site.  It is my view that this constitutes fair use of the quoted material from each poem.  However, if you believe that any quote in this post violates the terms of a copyright that you hold or represent, please notify me and I will remove it.

According to the Birds of North [...]]]> The rash of unexpected Roseate Spoonbill sightings this summer has been a treat for birders up and down the east coast.  While northward movement of juveniles during post-breeding dispersal is known for the species, the numbers of birds involved and the extent of the northward movement this season is impressive.

According to the Birds of North America species account, spoonbills, “especially immatures, occasionally disperse great distances, but seasonal patterns of movement are poorly understood” (Dumas 2000).  In past years, the occasional individual has appeared as far north as Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, and Nebraska.  Spoonbills regularly disperse in small numbers along the gulf coast in the states of Alabama and Mississippi, and north along the Atlantic coast to Georgia.  In 1972, a large movement of immatures occurred as far inland as Tennessee.  This summer, spoonbills have appeared in many eastern states, including Virginia, Delaware, and New Jersey.  In fact, I saw the bird that appeared at Thousand Acre Marsh in Delaware last month.

I’ve been fortunate to be in the Low Country of South Carolina for a couple of weeks, which is where I took the photo below.  These birds were part of a larger flock that contained at least 47 individuals.  The peak number of Spoonbills observed at this site this summer was 63 a few weeks ago.

I’m sitting in a john boat, taking this photo with a point-and-shoot camera, which gives an idea of how close I am to these birds.  They don’t seem too bothered, do they?  I keep wondering what drives these irruptions, and whether climate change is a contributing factor.  Spoonbill foraging is dependent on fluctuating water depths, so water level changes at foraging habitat in Florida might trigger large-scale movements.  Hopefully this year’s irruption (and its documentation by birders) will help us better understand the movements of this fascinating species.

Citation:

Dumas, Jeannette V. 2000. Roseate Spoonbill (Platalea ajaja), The Birds of North America Online (A. Poole, Ed.). Ithaca: Cornell Lab of Ornithology; Retrieved from the Birds of North America Online: http://bna.birds.cornell.edu/bna/species/490

Initially released on this continent in the early 1850s in New York City and parts of New England, [...]]]> The House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) is one of those critters that birders love to hate.  The species makes a habit of usurping the nest sites of native species, especially bluebirds, and is therefore reviled by many a birder.

Initially released on this continent in the early 1850s in New York City and parts of New England, followed by many more releases across the U.S. and Canada during subsequent decades, the Old World sparrow rapidly established outposts on New World soils.  By the 1880s, the species was well-established in many cities, and its impacts on native avifauna were becoming obvious.  The bird that had once captivated the countless Americans who aided in its rapid spread had already worn out its welcome.

When watching these birds, it’s not difficult to see why they have persisted for the past century.  Their ability to thrive in urban settings, scavenging discarded french fries and other bits of refuse, is notorious.  Anyone who has watched House Sparrows making themselves at home inside warehouse stores or building sloppy nests of dry grass in every conceivable type of lamppost can attest to their adaptability.  I have to admit that I’m ambivalent about the species.  The scientist in me dislikes the impact of the House Sparrow on native birds, but the humanist in me loves the plucky spirit of these little tank-like city-dwellers.

Yesterday I witnessed an event that made me smile.  As I was about to get out of my car, I noticed a female House Sparrow that had flown to the ground nearby with something shiny and green in her bill.  I froze in the driver’s seat, window down, and watched.  Not ten feet away, the bird lit on some reddish landscaping gravel.  At this range I could tell what the mysterious object was: not one, but two Japanese Beetles!  The unfortunate beetles were attached to each other for the purposes of mating (a position referred to by entomologists as in copulo) and had no hope of disuniting in time for either to escape!  The sparrow settled down to lunch and quickly munched most of the first beetle of the pair, while the beetle’s mate could only wriggle in vain, still attached to the little that remained of its mate.  After briefly dropping the remaining beetle into the stones, the House Sparrow deftly picked up a piece of gravel, dropped it aside, and reclaimed its prey.

Two Japanese Beetles down, millions more to go.  One introduced pest species feasting on another.  Unfortunately, the energy-rich beetle innards, recycled, no doubt, from some gardener’s prized roses, were going to help produce more House Sparrows.

Such is the way of the urban jungle.  At least now I feel a little better about my guilty admiration for Passer domesticus.

House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) by J. Garg. Distributed under the terms of a Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/)

What often gets lost in the excitement surrounding “green” energy, though, is [...]]]> Renewable.  Sustainable.  Green.

All of these buzzwords make us feel good about our progress toward mainstreaming alternative energy sources.  We need to power an increasingly energy-hungry world in the face of global climate change, and we all know that fossil fuels are not the solution.

What often gets lost in the excitement surrounding “green” energy, though, is that these technologies are not free from collateral damage to biodiversity and wildlife habitats.  Wind turbines atop Appalachian ridges, for instance, may impact unique mountain-top habitats, and they are known to kill birds and large numbers of migrating bats.  As pressure has been building on wind farm operators to address this problem, basic steps are being taken to help reduce the impact.  Common sense solutions like shutting down the turbines on relatively calm nights are apparently effective at reducing bat kills, for example.

Biofuels are not without their problems, either, but the problems have largely gone unrecognized, and the solutions are not as straightforward.  From a climate change perspective, one major issue is the increase in emissions caused by land use changes associated with biofuel production.  This is the focus of a current campaign by the Union of Concerned Scientists.  At the “Take Action” section of their site, you can personalize and send a letter to the EPA, urging the agency to consider land use changes when calculating life-cycle analyses of biofuels for the agency’s Renewable Fuels Standard (RFS).

What the UCS letter doesn’t directly address is the impact of those same land use changes on other ecosystem services, wildlife habitat, and biodiversity.  European studies have shown that production of biofuel crops such as corn in the amounts necessary to meet EU targets is generating significant negative impacts on biodiversity.

The production of so-called second-generation biofuels from grasses is somewhat less detrimental, but still far from ideal.  As cellulosic biofuel production becomes more cost-effective and energy efficient, switchgrass, a high-yield, perennial grass, is poised to become an important commodity here in the U.S.

Switchgrass (left) is poised to surpass Corn (right) as the commodity of choice for production of ethanol for biofuel. Photo by USDA ARS Photo Unit, USDA Agricultural Research Service, Bugwood.org (used under a Creative Commons 3.0 Attribution License)

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) is a tall, native warm-season grass that was once widespread throughout the American tallgrass prairie.  Today, many cultivars are available, and the species is used for conservation plantings and wildlife habitat, providing valuable food and cover for birds and other wildlife.  So what’s the problem?  When grown in a monoculture, as required for harvesting for biofuels, switchgrass is only marginally better wildlife habitat than corn, or any other crop.

Native prairies were historically very diverse plant communities, with species composition maintained by periodic fires.  Structurally, native grasslands varied in density and height based on fire history, soils, and other factors.  Many grassland birds of conservation concern require patchy bunchgrasses with some bare ground in between plants.  Native bees require a diversity of wildflowers that bloom at different times throughout the year, as well as access to bare soils for nesting.  Butterflies all require different species of hostplants on which their caterpillars can grow.  In short, grassland biodiversity depends on both structural and species diversity of the plant community.  Monocultures just don’t cut it.

Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum) and other grassland birds are at risk from high biofuel commodity prices. Photo (c) Jeffrey A. Gordon

So what’s at stake?  The concern of many conservationists (myself included) is the potential conversion of privately-owned land that is currently enrolled in federal conservation programs to switchgrass monocultures for biofuel production over the next couple of decades.  Over 33.5 millions acres are currently enrolled in the USDA program called CRP (Conservation Reserve Program), which pays farmers an annual rental rate for retiring land from crop production and planting it to wildlife cover.  CRP contracts typically tie up the land for 10 to 15 years.

Currently, CRP land management is governed by contract stipulations that prohibit disturbance during the breeding season, and encourage wildlife use of the acreage.  Many studies have shown that CRP land is vital to sustaining grassland bird populations.  Pollinating insects, reptiles and amphibians, and other fauna benefit from these habitats as well.

According to USDA figures, almost 60% of the current active acreage in CRP will see contracts expire by the end of 2013.  With the signing of the 2008 Food Conservation and Energy Act (aka the Farm Bill) the CRP cap (maximum acreage to be enrolled in CRP) was already reduced from 39.2 million acres to 32 million acres beginning in 2010.  Thus a mandated net loss of over 4% of current active CRP acreage is already slated to occur in the near future.

While some of the expiring contracts will be renewed under the new acreage cap, if prices for biofuel commodities rise high enough, a large amount of CRP land may be lost when owners decide not renew, but to seek “greener pastures” in switchgrass or corn production for biofuel.  A mass exodus of from the CRP program would be a disaster for conservation of grassland species in North America.  In addition, there is the possibility that the USDA could change the rules for CRP contracts at some point in the future to allow switchgrass production on CRP lands.

Over at the Biofuels and Bio-based Carbon Mitigation Blog of the School of Natural Resources and Environment at the University of Michigan, Kristen Johnson wrote a great post discussing the potential magnitude of the conversion of CRP lands to switchgrass production for cellulosic biofuel.  She states that acres currently in corn are unlikely to be converted to switchgrass, since EPA guidelines call for a continued increase in corn-based ethanol production in the near future.

As long as the prices of other commodities like soybeans are high, that leaves only pastureland, hay production land, and CRP land as prime targets for conversion to biofuels.  Compared to cropland, these land uses are all of much higher value to wildlife.

The take-home message here is this: if you value grassland habitats and the wildlife that depends on them, keep an eye on this issue.  While the Union of Concerned Scientists letter doesn’t specifically address habitat loss, it does shed light on the emissions consequences of biofuel production, and is a step toward helping our public agencies recognize that biofuels are not free of collateral damage.  You can view the letter at the Union of Concerned Scientists “Take Action” site.