Hamlyn describes its Young Ornithological Guides as a totally new concept
in bird books aimed at 8 to 14-year-olds. They are designed to give information
on the lifestyle of birds and to develop birdwatching skills, rather than
dealing with species-by-species identification.

In the introduction, Bill Oddie talks about his schooldays of birdwatching
and the lack of field guides, let alone books which were suitable for children
covering other aspects of ornithology, he used to ‘just look up and wonder’
at migrating birds. He reminds us that birdwatching is a hobby for life
and urges readers to never give it up.

There are some very nice aspects to both books. I particularly liked
the chapters on ‘dangerous journeys’ (a look at the threats to migrating
birds) and ‘light effects’ (the problems of comparing birds in the field
to pictures in books), both being well presented and illustrated. On the
downside, there are a few trivial – but, for books of this length, needless
– errors, and some repetition between chap- ters. Overall, the concept of
such a series would seem to be excellent, but there is a danger that these
guides in their chosen format could fall between two stools. So on the one
hand, they may not be lively enough for younger children and beginners;
on the other hand, they are unlikely to be sufficiently detailed enough
for those older children who, having followed Bill Oddie’s advice and with
several years of experience behind them, have already developed into keen
birdwatchers.

The books’ short chapters each end with a ‘things to do’, glossary and
index, and are illustrated throughout with photographs, paintings, line
drawings and occasional diagrams and maps. Captions, boxes of facts, highlit
terms and subheadings all help to give quick details. However, the books
are designed to be read cover to cover and the general impression is rather
serious, perhaps even old fashioned, a style which may not be a problem
to the targeted audience of young enthusiasts, but which could put off less
committed readers, and which thereby reduces their function as an introduction
to birds and birdwatching.

Alison Stattersfield is a research officer at Birdlife International,
Cambridge.

The accompanying hand written text is packed with remarkable facts.
Did you know that the American robin consumes nearly 5 metres of worm on
a good day, or that the red-eyed vireo holds the avian songster record with
more than 22 000 performances in a single day?

The downside of this book is the American bias (you may be disappointed
if you follow the planting instructions to attract a garden of hummers),
the rather confusing divisions between bird, egg, feather, nest, and the
occasional misinformation – it is claimed that well over half of all 9657
known bird species have the ability to perch. But, as a colourful celebration
of avian diversity, this book is fun.

Conservationists have shifted their focus from species to the habitats
critical for their survival. Bruce Pearson and Robert Burton have aptly
coined the word ‘birdscape’, the title of a new Channel 4 series and accompanying
book, to marry the two: bird and landscape.

Pearson looks at the combination with an artist’s eye: the effects of
light, time of day and season on the plumage and behaviour of his avian
subjects. Burton, biologist and writer, describes the ecological interactions
between species and habitat. The two visit six of Britain’s best bird watching
sites and together they weave a visual and verbal story shown in the six
episodes of the television series and the corresponding chapters of the
book.

Readers and viewers begin in the ‘avian Serengeti’ of the East Anglian
fens where ‘eels were almost a unit of currency’, and we learn about swans
and ducks and the black-tailed godwit. Then it’s on to the red kite country
of Wales, and the oak woodlands that are the summer home to the migrant
insect eaters: pied flycatcher, wood warbler, redstart and tree pipit.

The Flow country in Scotland is the next stop with its specialist waders:
dunlin and greenshank, and British rarities, wood sandpiper, red-necked
phalarope and Temminck’s stint. There is a taste of the Cornish cliffs to
view the magnificent peregrine falcon, and to catch between hunting bouts
the ravens, jackdaws, fulmars and gulls.

The Dorset heaths follow, ‘perhaps the most exquisite of the six landscapes’,
along with their special heathland birds: nightjar, Dartford warbler and
hobby. The final destination for the painter and writer is North Norfolk
to find out what has happened to the barn owl in one of its remaining British
strongholds.

Birdscape is illustrated throughout by Pearson’s paintings and sketches,
which capture beautifully the mood of the scene and the activity of the
birds. His art is characterised by soft colours and subtle light that together
create a tranquil effect. Burton’s complementary text is full of detail,
anecdote, comment and quotation-even Winnie the Pooh gets in somehow.

There are little gems scattered throughout: for example, the differences
between falcons, hawks and eagles simply explained (a small digression while
describing the peregrine), a reminder of the derivation of the name ‘Plantagenet’
from Planta genista (the broom plant to be found on the Dorset heaths),
and local sayings such as ‘Any fool can appreciate mountain scenery but
it takes a man of discernment to appreciate the Fens.’

Overall, the book is a pleasing vignette of some of Britain’s most diverse
birdscapes. But to dismiss it as nothing more would be misleading. There
is a central theme to the book, namely the appalling destruction and mismanagement
of our countryside.

The devastation of the Flow country, our last great wilderness, is described
in Burton’s heartfelt lament as perhaps the most massive single loss of
British wildlife habitat since the Second World War. It is particularly
shocking to discover that when Thomas Hardy was writing a century ago, the
Dorset heaths covered more than 20,000 hectares; today only a fragmented
1700 hectares survive.

Many losses result from less spectacular and obvious changes. The drive
by farmers to profit from every scrap of land has taken the plough to the
edge of many a Cornish cliff, and this loss of wild land contributes to
the demise of the chough.

The barn owl, which has been driven back into linear habitats, such
as roadside hedges, river banks or the uncultivated borders of fields, has
declined as even these remnants are destroyed by modern agricultural practice
and degraded by the overzealous use of pesticides.

Despite its interesting juxtaposition of complementary images from art
and text, the book does not offer any novel insights or assessments. Its
main appeal is likely to reflect the extent to which the television series,
with its third dimension of immediacy, succeeds in involving the viewer.
If it achieves this, many may buy the book as a reminder of the images that
they have seen and the conversations they have heard.

Alison Stattersfield is a research officer with the international Council
for Bird Preservation.

The whooping crane has probably never been very numerous in historical
times; in the late 18th century, there were possibly as few as 500 birds.
Species with naturally low numbers are especially vulnerable to change,
but low numbers coupled with small (and shrinking) breeding and wintering
grounds and a migration route of more than 3000 kilometres linking the two
made hazardous because of hunting and power lines have stacked the odds
against the chances of the whooping crane surviving.

Return of the Whooping Crane examines three distinct initiatives in
the bird’s conservation: the management of the relict population of wild
cranes who migrate from breeding grounds in the Canadian Northwest Territories
to the Texas Gulf coast; the raising of cranes in captivity; and the establishment
of an additional wild population using the Sandhill cranes that migrate
between Idaho and New Mexico as foster parents. Professor Robin Doughty
recounts the crane’s recovery with a combination of scientific information,
historical anecdotes, journal extracts from the pioneers, poetic snippets
and an overriding enthusiasm.

The story of the whooping crane recovery is a complicated one, involving
much ferrying of eggs and birds from one location to another in a mammoth
attempt to gain the maximum reproductive rate. An interested browser could
get lost in places due to the combination of detail (dates, numbers, crane
family relationships and so on) and the confusing naming of birds, referred
to in some cases by their colour bands, such as Nil-White, and in others
by cohort numbers (75-1). Even when the cranes have pet names, it is necessary
to have your wits about you, an amusing example being Tex, a nine-year-old
female crane, who is ‘paired’ with International Crane Foundation director,
George Archibald. A less alert reader might think that Archibald (who replicated
her leaps and gestures) and George (who followed the white bird up a hill
to a nearby hayfield) are both eager crane suitors. However, summary tables,
maps and a useful chronological appendix help to tie the facts together.

My expectation of this book was to read about a conservation success,
and yet the impression I am left with is one of ambivalence and an unease
over the long list of disasters resulting from human interference. Yes,
there has been a considerable increase in numbers (although the figure of
200 is misleading), and we know far more about the reproduction and behaviour
of the whooping crane. But the costs involved, in dollars and effort, have
been enormous.

The current situation is disappointing: 138 birds in the wild relict
population, where clutch manipulation and improved management techniques
at the wintering grounds have boosted their numbers; an estimated 16 birds
in the Rocky Mountain population, but no successful breeding; and 46 birds
in the captive flock, where reproductive performance has been poor for several
years and attempts at reintroduction have all failed.

Doughty gives a comprehensive account of the return of the whooping
crane and as such his book will be most welcome to the crane enthusiast.
There is, however, no critical examination or analysis of the facts, and
no thorough debate of the techniques and procedures conservationists have
employed. Doughty’s assertion that ‘North America’s example . . . is a prototype
for research and conservation in other countries’ is wholly unsubstantiated,
even if such a programme were in the finan cial grasp of any other country.
There are lessons to be learnt from The Return of the Whooping Crane, but
perhaps the most important one of all is that there is no easy panacea when
a species reaches such critically low numbers.

Alison Stattersfield is a researcher for the International Council for
Bird Preservation.