Where have all the birds gone?

This should be the question on everyone's minds next spring.

Last week I had the pleasure of interviewing Professor Dan Brooks, ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Toronto.

The purpose of the interview was to discuss his book, My Brothers' Eyes: How My Blind Brothers Taught Me to See.  An homage to his brothers, Lucien and Duncan who both lost their sight at the age of four.

My Brother's Eyes is Brooks' conversation with his brothers Lucien and Duncan, both who died when they were in their twenties.  Brooks shares this conversation with his readers by recalling childhood experiences, his photography and through descriptions of the places he visits to conduct his research.

Most of all, the book is about seeing with an awareness that goes beyond sight and how growing up with his brothers taught him that.

Chapter four is about post-Katrina New Orleans and includes photographs taken in the Ninth Ward in 2007. The haunting neglect depicted in the images is startling. More so, when you consider what is happening in the Gulf today.

So, naturally, our conversation turned to the BP oil spill.

Brooks had a lot to say about the mess in the Gulf of Mexico. He talked about the American mind-set, the politics, the bureaucracy that seems to be less than helpful and the topics nobody is talking about. For instance, the annual bird migration - which happens in a few months.

The American Bird Conservancy has posted a map that shows the location of the oil spill in relation to globally important bird areas, see here.

Brooks explained that birds migrating south, the birds we see out our windows today, stop in the Gulf of Mexico to feed on their way to South America. When they arrive this year they will find little to no food and most will starve to death.

"Far fewer of them will get to the winter breeding grounds in Latin America," said Brooks. Which means far fewer will return to North America in the spring.

Keep in mind, the trip back also requires a stop in the Gulf, where again, the returning birds will starve to death. "By next May, people in Toronto are going to be saying, boy there are not a lot of birds around," he added.

I'm not so sure I believe Brooks. I don't know that most people will realize there are less birds than usual.

To notice something like that, people have to be aware of the world that surrounds them and I think that kind of awareness is a rare quality.

The things I see when I don’t have camera

This is something I should have posted a couple of months ago ... better late than never, as they say!

It was another one of the best photos I’ve never taken.

I was standing at the corner of Bedford and Bloor waiting for the light to change. I looked across at Varsity Centre; the sun was just peaking over the stadium seating. I thought to myself, “I really should carry my camera with me.” The light changed and I crossed the street, heading toward Devonshire Place.

As I made my way south on Devonshire I noticed there were several workmen on the track at Varsity Centre. I looked at the dome and it appeared to be deflating. “Oh, no!” I exclaimed, “I really wanted to write a story about this.”

Continuing down Devonshire, I thought, “Well, I’m here now. Even if I can’t get a photograph of this, I can at least stay and watch it happen.”

I managed to catch the attention of one of the Varsity Centre crewmen and confirmed that they were deflating the dome. He mentioned it would take about twenty minutes to happen and it will take a crew of about fifty to one hundred people a total of two days to pack up the dome and stow it away for the season.

I asked him how they deflate the dome, he said, we open the doors, turn off the fans and let the air out. “It’s like a big balloon.” 

So, as the dome expelled air, I watched the cables that keep it in place and give it shape start to slacken. The centre section began to collapse first, turning the dome into a marshmallow valley. As I stood at the fence on the west side of the stadium I caught a faint smell of the air being released. The polyester dome still has that ‘new’ smell, the same way a new car has its own smell.

The work crew began assembling around the doorways with what appeared to be two-by-four boards. They prodded the sides, pushing the falling fabric back, preventing it from collapsing and covering the doorways.

Sure enough, after about twenty minutes the fabric was pooled around the bottom of the doorways, the last of the remaining air had retreated to the corners and the dome lay on the field.

The next day I went by the Varsity Centre to see how things progressed and took these photo. They show part of the dome laying flat on the field (top photo) and the rest of it already rolled up and the cables sitting coiled on the track (bottom photo), waiting to be put away.