The Sound of June: What Twelve Summers of Bird Monitoring Taught Me About Wild Places
When most people think of June, they think of summer vacation. For me, June meant 4:00 a.m. alarms, dew-soaked boots, and the race to turn the dawn bird chorus into data.
Between 2005 and 2016, I spent twelve straight summers conducting bird surveys across the American West. It began in the Sierra Nevada, where I monitored Great Gray Owls in deep forest clearings. The next year, I was conducting point counts for Point Reyes Bird Observatory (now Point Blue) in the northern Sierras. And then in 2007, I joined Bird Conservancy of the Rockies, where I would spend the next decade working on one of the most ambitious bird monitoring programs in North America.
Building a Better Way to Listen
Back then, bird monitoring often meant tallying whatever you could from the roadside. But the Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions (IMBCR) program aimed higher. It was designed to estimate bird populations across entire landscapes—not just along easy access points. That meant hiking off trail, sometimes miles from the nearest road, to stand in a specific point at sunrise, listening for every call, song, and wingbeat.
In 2007, I led a crew in Wyoming. In 2008, I was working all over Colorado. By 2009, I had a permanent position and was coordinating data collection across the Southwest—covering the Kaibab, Coconino, and Prescott National Forests of Arizona. And in 2010, I found the landscape that would define my next seven summers: the Northern Great Plains.
Falling for the Grasslands
I’ll admit it—I used to think I preferred the mountains. Big elevation, big views. But the Great Plains changed that.
At first glance, the landscape can seem empty. But spend a little time, and you’ll notice the texture of light and grass, the diversity hidden in every fold of land. You’ll hear the bubbling call of an Upland Sandpiper, catch the early-morning silhouettes of Mountain Plovers, and feel the pulse of a Western Meadowlark’s song echo across wide pastures.
We trained on land protected by The Nature Conservancy, at Custer State Park, and in Badlands National Park. Our surveys reached from the Nebraska Sandhills to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, crossing both private ranches and public lands. The data we collected helped build accurate population estimates for more than 200 species—and gave land managers a clearer picture of what was changing, and what could still be protected.
But just as valuable as the data were the lessons I learned from those places.
Attention, Refined by Time
After a few seasons, I realized I wasn’t just getting better at identifying birds—I was learning how to pay attention differently. In the mountains, things can dazzle you. In the grasslands, you have to look closer. You learn to read the sky for wind shifts. You start to hear the difference between a Western Meadowlark and a Chestnut-collared Longspur. You recognize how subtly grass height, soil type, and land use shape what birds are present.
This work trained my ears and sharpened my field skills—but it also rewired how I move through the natural world. And that’s something I try to share on every tour I lead now.
The Dawn Chorus Lives On
Even though I’m no longer spending summers entering data in small-town public libraries after long transect hikes, this time of year still pulls me outside at first light. June is when bird activity peaks—territories are defended, fledglings are emerging, and the air is filled with sound.
If you’d like to experience that magic, I’d love to have you join me at Rocky Mountain Arsenal this month. We’ll head out early to look and listen. You can expect:
- Yellow-headed Blackbirds in full voice
- Burrowing Owls hunting along the prairie edge
- A mix of waterbirds, raptors, and songbirds in transition
👉 Click here to book your tour.
Why It Still Matters
We’re at a point where data, observation, and presence all matter more than ever. Birds are indicators of ecosystem health—and many are declining. But the act of going outside and learning what lives in a place is still powerful. It’s how I began, and it’s what continues to inspire me.
Whether you’re building your life list or simply looking for a quiet morning with good company and open skies, June is the perfect time to listen.
See you in the field.