Somewhere in one of our beautiful beach parks, you might have seen me looking up to the trees, cell phone held high. I'm not trying for a better signal. I'm trying for another bird. Well, me along with Merlin, the magical app that has somehow turned me into what is apparently called, by those who know, a "birder."
Nature apps are nothing new, of course, and others for birds offer identification by your submission of a photo or description. But Merlin does one better: its particular gift is an ability to identify birds by their calls. Hold your phone up toward the sound, press record, and almost instantly you will see a photo and description of whoever has been singing for you. That's right, Merlin is, among other things, Shazam for birds.
With the help of this little high-tech gem, created by the renowned Cornell Lab of Ornithology, so far I have found more than 120 bird species, all here on our island. Merlin keeps the sightings for me on a "life list," even mapping where I saw or heard what it cheerily calls "your birds." Incredibly, it's free to download.
And what have I heard lately? What do I know about our island that I didn't know before? That the Beaches Library is a reliable hotbed of yellow-rumped warblers. That Dutton Island Preserve is a wonderland of belted kingfishers, common ground doves, noisy ospreys and even peregrine falcons. Howell Park? Listen for the distinctive high cry of the eastern phoebe, and the soft, shy hoot of the great horned owl. The beauties streaming over the playing fields at Jack Russell Park are eastern bluebirds, and often barred owls look on from the tall pines.
Of course, the ospreys nesting overhead at Dutton Island don't know they are making an MP3 on my phone app, which uses the same technology that the Cornell Lab and others use to monitor bird species and aid in research and preservation efforts for birds worldwide. Thousands of recordings from volunteer birders have enabled Merlin to recognize more than 37,500 species across 40 countries, and its library of "learned" species is ever growing.
Like so many others, I have concerns about technology coming between us and the natural world. But Merlin may be an exception. It has given the glorious dawn chorus in my backyard new meaning. Because it discerns and separates different calls, I increasingly hear them as separate songs, too. I notice that some are constant neighbors (the peeps of northern cardinals, the lilting music of Carolina wrens) and some are seasonal, just passing through (red-winged blackbirds, cedar waxwings, American robins). Every lovely park or preserve walk now has the added fun of the hunt. Because who knows what Merlin and I might see, or hear.
