"For one species to mourn the death of another is a new thing under the sun." Aldo Leopold, 'On a monument to the pigeon,' 1947.

Had the birds not come searching for me, I might not have gone searching for them. But they did, one warm September afternoon, just as I sat down for lunch. At first I mistook their tapping for a knock on the front door, but as iI moved toward it, it was evident that the sound was coming from elsewhere.

Flock Together had its charms- there's some good reflection on extinction in our world here though wrapped up in an anxiety. The imposter syndrome was a bit strong for someone writing a memoir but I found all the information interesting. ( )

Flock Together is B.J. Hollars' account of how he became enamored with birds and extinct birds, and became a birder himself. In this regard, the book provides ample material for the beginner birder with important American names in the conservation movement, local Wisconsin resources, a good bibliography, as well as many stories of the anxieties and insecurities of a beginner birder.

The scope of the book is regional, rarely reaching national (with mentions of national, if not international icons in conservation history, such as Aldo Leopold). This is not a huge problem, though, as Wisconsin does have a lot to offer in terms of bird diversity and habitat and a slew of experts, museums, collections, and legends like the aforementioned Aldo Leopold.

Mostly, Hollars is obsessed not only with his new-found hobby of watching birds, but also with the long-term, mostly epistolary relationship of two men, one a hermit citizen scientist named Ziller and the other, one of Leopold's students, a passenger pigeon expert, called Schroger. A substantial part of the book is spent discussing their relationship and correspondence, tracking down the goshawk Ziller shot and gifted Schroger, tracking down Ziller's hut in the wilderness... In a longer book, this relationship certainly offers a unique opportunity to understand not only bird conservation and environmentalism in America, but also the scholars and citizens who were/are dedicated to birds, as well as the changes in attitude towards nature and wildlife from shoot-and-study to list-and-count. However, in such a short book, the relationship perhaps takes too much space. Still, the author's own enthusiasm about the lives of the two men is captivating. And that Hollars brings lost names like Ziller to the forefront is valuable.

There is, though, one thing that would improve the book immensely: at times, details that do not pertain at all to the subject matter are included in ways that don't really add anything, not even respite to collect thoughts, for example what the author and his companions ordered to eat somewhere. At other times, conversations are rendered in dialog format without, it seems, any stylized shortening to get to the gist, which serves no purpose other than take up space.

Instead, some other things could have been explored, such as the greater history of conservation in the US, or the relationship of American birding to, say, the practice in the UK (for, Americans did not invent birding, hunting, etc.) There is certainly a big cultural difference: where Hollars experiences almost all his birding by driving around in big, gas-guzzling cars, the serious British birders take a less intrusive approach (perhaps also aided by the fact that the public paths allow anyone to walk through anyone else's land...)

Overall, Flock Together is a well written book about the beginnings of one man's interest in birds and their habitats. It is difficult to see where it would fit, though: the amateur birder can certainly benefit from a good guide and how-to book more, and those seeking information about conservation of birds (or extinction of birds, for that matter) could benefit more from book like Rare Bird by Maria Mudd Ruth that focus on one story, one bird, and examine nearly all the players that make that story complete.

Recommended to those who like woodpeckers, auks, goshawks, Sesame Street, and rabbits.

Thanks to NetGalley and University of Nebraska Press for a free digital copy of the book in exchange of my review. ( )

Birders are passionate. They are iconoclasts, maybe even anarchists. They may record every detail of every sighting they make, in endless volumes of journal entries and spreadsheets that mean nothing to anyone else, including other birders. They spend Christmas counting birds. They live for the chirp. This is the world Hollars is entering.

My wife and I consider ourselves on the edge of this precipice. We have a buffet out back that is the trough for about 20 species, more than most can even name, according to Flocking Together. When I lived in Quebec, I identified 49 of the 51 native birds over the years. So there is some kinship here.

The book is about two things: extinct species in the USA, and Wisconsin birders. It is perverse that Hollars discovers people who have seen endlings – the last living example of a bird now extinct. These people are minor celebrities to him. There are lots of endlings, more every year. It is nothing to be proud of. Especially if you shot and stuffed the last one, which was the pride of conservationists until about 70 years ago.

One thing birders have in common is obsession. It takes them over. Hollars is driven to get up to date on Wisconsin birders going back 150 years, seeking their cabins, examining their stuffed specimens, and linking them to the others in the obsessive community.

Sadly, it’s all that superficial. He never probes the state of the disaster. Hollars doesn’t get into what birds face extinction; he only seems interested in birds that are no more. He touches on the fact that ordinary house cats kill 2.4 billion birds a year in the USA. But he doesn’t relate it to the fact there are 70 million cats – way out of proportion to their place in the ecological scheme – simply because there are way too many of us. So it’s no use saying we are not responsible for all the factors in extinctions. Really, we are.

Flock Together is a nice little research source for someone starting out birding. Know what you’re getting into.

David Wineberg ( )