#on ornithography

[morrak]

No disrespect on Haematopus, but how hard can it actually be to catch an oyster? Faint cause for a name, methinks.

[morrak]

Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 159

Birds of Texas: Field Guide, written by Stan Tekiela and published in 2004 by Adventure Publications, Inc., whose website is almost perfectly devoid of charm, utility, or offense.

The How

This one, like many of the bird books I now happily share, is really @krieper's. Possibly, but not definitely, a purchase at our old favorite used bookstore. We should see if either of us still have credit on file with them next time we're back there. Given they've used the same set of suspension folders to track that for several decades, probably so. Hmm.

The Text

Well, it's a field guide to birds. You probably know the drill. Basic visual ID information; range maps; one or two or three photos with requisite credit given in the frontmatter. Behavioral info is given in 'Stan's Notes' form, which are distinctive in that they're called 'Stan's Notes' and little else besides. Faintly cutesy and minimally sufficient in the way all such books are, which I say with no malice in my heart.

The Object

If you're ever designing a field guide, the first thing you must do is make sure it's got completely different dimensions to any other book ever published (unless it's part of a series, in which case you're instead to differentiate it using a color that's at once completely unheard of and viscerally bland).

Speaking of colors, that's how this organizes itself. Not an uncommon move with bird guides, I guess, but still one that rankles me a little. There are very few principles of organization that don't rankle me, to be fair, but this one has never felt comfortable even though it seems at least as good as any alternatives. Big fan of the show-through tabs on the fore edge, though; not sure I've seen that done with color before.

On the upside, some of the (accidental?) adjacencies make me weirdly happy: great blue heron lives next to ruby-throated hummingbird, for example; cattle egret with Caspian tern. You see.

The Why, Though?

Time has made lies of some of the range maps and several noteworthy but rare/seasonal/regionally restricted species are missing, so definitely not for accuracy or completeness. My main use case for this is gazing longingly at erstwhile friend the scissor-tailed flycatcher. Every day do I miss him.

@Krieper's Notes:

I think some of the checkboxes in the back index were filled in when I got it. I never would've used something that would smear this bad, and I've definitely seen a black-crowned night heron.

[morrak]

Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 150

Joanna Burger and Michael Gochfeld's The Common Tern: Its Breeding Biology and Social Behavior, published in 1991 by Columbia University Press.

The How

At thrift stores and estate sale's @krieper's presence increases the odds of any given book being bird-related by a clean 50%. Pretty neat trick. A bit on the nose, maybe, but you'll not catch me complaining.

This was found cover to cover with an older Population Ecology of Raptors. Given their condition and the seller's stocking habits, they must have shared an owner. Couldn't not grab both; you'll see the other one eventually.

The Text

This collates behavioral, ecological, and sociobiological studies of several common tern colonies in New York and New Jersey conducted by the authors from 1964 ('67 if you only count annual data series) to 1990. Because their primary interest was the evolution and adaptive significance of coloniality itself, and because common terns often nest alongside other species, a full-fledged companion work, The Black Skimmer: Social Dynamics of a Colonial Species, was published just ahead of this one based on largely overlapping research.

The (or at least my) primary impression is one of absolute exhaustion. Exhaustiveness, rather. Actually I mean both. Recording observations daily, for months, at several sites, on publicly accessible land, in single-digit minute intervals, sometimes of thousands of birds at once, for decades, is just nuts. They did have help — mostly from family members, over a dozen of whom are credited as contributors, translators, and field assistants — but that defrays precisely none of my confusion that they pulled this off. I'm not unfamiliar with demanding field work, but the longevity and intensity of a project like this is something else. The write-up, data synthesis, and preparation of the all-you-can-eat appendices and indexes, would have been a marathon all on their own, and they did it twice during the observation period.

All of this is even wilder when you consider that of the authors, only one was an ornithologist per se: Gochfeld spent much of the rest of his career studying environmental chemical exposure in humans.

The Object

Lots to love.

This is probably the most recent publication I've seen that still uses hand-drafted charts. They're relatively clean, but there are a few misaligned stencils and the Leroy Lettering Set style is unmistakable, what with its ambiguous 1/ls, not-quite-acutely cornered 7s, and perfect 22.5° italics. There are some pretty clear shifts in style as the book wears on — easy, I imagine, in a long-lived manuscript — but they're all equally handsome. If you like the look, check out Darren Embry's Routed Gothic.

The tables (profuse; often gigantic) and body (nicely sectioned) are more 90s: mostly Parkinson Electra, which has my favorite style of uppercase Q and probably second favorite lowercase g. Transitional 521 BT wins (as it ever must) but not by too wide a margin. I digress.

Apart from being fun to look at per-letter and -word, the photography (mostly Burger's, it seems) is exactly what you'd guess. Loving, quick, serviceable. Probably the best 0.5% of what was shot, adjusting for inflation.

The whole thing's in almost pristine condition, save for a couple specks of agéd orange adhesive(?) in the text block. If it was ever opened, it was gently and briefly. Green fabric cover; red foil lettering. Beautiful.

The Why, Though?

I mean, it's terns.

Its ethology isn't as radical (sensu dope comma sick as hell) as, say, Squid Book's, and the fact that it's about birds is in some ways incidental, but come on. It's terns.

[morrak]

So it has been alleged.

[morrak]

Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 141

Patrick Spielman’s Making Wood Decoys, published in 1982 by Sterling Publishing Company.

The How

Found alongside that comedy size chemicals-that-hurt-you book (of which there was sadly only a single volume) on a recent jaunt with @krieper.

The Text

Charm and passion. And ducks.

Spielman really wants you to know that you (yes, you!) can, should, and possibly must make wood decoys. It’s a venerable tradition, you see, and much in demand. Sayeth the intro: ‘this book is essentially for the beginner and the amateur woodworker.’

On its own terms, I think it’s probably quite successful — thorough structure, generous illustration (including a surprising amount of borrowed and attributed corporate imagery), and memorable detail without any major diversions. Several carvers from Door County, Wisconsin are roundly thanked in the intro, which tracks; this has the feel and tone of a very patiently pooled effort. The author’s photos of their work (I’m pretty sure these are his, anyway; they’re the only things not credited to someone else) are absolutely lavish, all things considered.

I have never handled a book that more badly wanted to be a YouTube channel. Mr. Spielman would’ve loved telling people to like and subscribe for more earnest and grainy and sometimes violent-looking but always well edited decoy content.

The Object

Almost lovely. Styled nicely and well printed, though the binding is no better than you’d expect from a craft book. The weak link by far is the paper — lots of spotting on and transfer from the color leaves, and there’s global yellowing besides. A predictable shame.

The combination of fonts on display (at least two ITC joints, though maybe more; I can’t be bothered to ID them) is right up the middle. It adds to it.

The Why, Though?

Not for the book itself, really. It does have some features I like: ducks; the only credit to a typist (the author’s daughter) I’ve ever seen; mid-century tool catalog insets; a curlew; showpieces from a group of dudes who may or may not have credit anymore outside of archived magazines or event fliers. Noteworthy points all, but none especially justify the shelf space.

The real reason I bought this was for the scrap of flier still tucked into the front matter, complete with ITC Benguiat (nice). Graphic design was someone’s passion. If ever something belongs in the to-be-framed-once-I-have-safe-shop-space collection, this does.

[morrak]

One of several nice things about daytripping with @krieper is that her cameras and camera work put mine to shame. Of course this means her pictures are better — the first two in this post are proof of such — but more subtle and valuable is the fact that I look way cooler by association with her fancy lens and competent demeanor. That third picture is meant as contrast with the first two as well as pressure for her to eventually post a portrait of the heron in quadrant III.

Visiting new watersheds is nice. Looking forward to showing off the results of such through the winter and beyond.

[morrak]

2022-10-22.

[morrak]

Seems like I’m developing a knack for finding black vultures squatting. Meet Flue.