Meet the Heart and Soul of America’s Oldest and Largest Bird Count

Geoff LeBaron has led 约炮视频's Christmas Bird Count for the last 32 years, long before crowdsourcing scientific data was in fashion.

Editor's note: The 2023 Christmas Bird Count was Geoff LeBaron's last. LeBaron retired in June 2024 after 37 years with 约炮视频. You can read his final CBC note to readers here, and learn more about Brooke Bateman, who is now leading the count here

It鈥檚 the Saturday before Christmas, and Geoff LeBaron is lugging a spotting scope and tripod through Ninigret National Wildlife Refuge, a former Naval airfield on the southern coast of Rhode Island. Bordering one of New England鈥檚 largest salt ponds, Ninigret can offer up a spectacular variety of species, even in the short, cold days of early winter. For LeBaron, it鈥檚 the day鈥檚 last stop and an opportunity to turnaround an otherwise dull morning of birding. 

As 约炮视频鈥檚 long-time Christmas Bird Count Director, LeBaron spends most of his time either corralling tens of thousands of volunteers or organizing the hundreds of millions of data points they generate. But for nearly 40 years, he鈥檚 set aside at least one day each December to be an active participant in the count. And, for much of that time, he鈥檚 paired up with his buddy Doug Wilson, a recently retired high school science teacher, to bird the same few square miles of Rhode Island. Together they know which homes have feeders, which parks have year-round bathrooms, and which fields are likely to be occupied by hunters. 

Compared with recent years, today has been quiet. LeBaron鈥檚 seasoned ear picks up on the shrill notes of a Red-headed Woodpecker, and bucket loads of Dark-eyed Juncos, Black-capped Chickadees, and Tufted Titmice have kept the morning moving. But the tried-and-true spots the two know so well aren鈥檛 living up to their potential. A former fish hatchery that鈥檚 often a safe bet for Winter Wren didn鈥檛 turn up much more than a circling Turkey Vulture. An overhang at a recreational center usually teeming with Bluebirds was empty. And the always-reliable cemetery was, 鈥淒are I say it,鈥 LeBaron jokes, 鈥渄ead.鈥

To be fair, the conditions鈥攎arked by bouts of erratic New England weather鈥攁ren鈥檛 exactly ideal. The only constant is a biting wind that muffles the sounds of nature and has apparently sent many birds looking for cover.

While a slow day of birding can be frustrating, LeBaron knows better than anyone that the beauty of the Christmas Bird Count is that there's still value in not finding any of the birds you鈥檇 expect. After all, it鈥檚 not a competition; it鈥檚 a long-term community science endeavor that has tracked trends in bird populations since 1900. Every holiday season, communities across North America set out to tally as many birds as possible within the same designated areas. In that context, 鈥渁 zero is still meaningful data,鈥 LeBaron says. 鈥淚t means that we know the bird wasn鈥檛 there that day.鈥

Still, there鈥檚 one particular bird that he and Wilson are eager to spot: a Lesser Black-backed Gull that they first saw in a cove at Ninigret more than 15 years ago, an unusual species to find in Rhode Island. Without fail, though, this one has been there every winter since they first saw it, and LeBaron is cautiously optimistic as he marches down a winding path toward the cove, his mop of silver curls stuffed under a blue baseball cap. But given how the rest of today has gone, there鈥檚 no telling if the reliable gull will show. 

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ince he was a boy, LeBaron, now 64, has been staring into the sky in search of moving objects. Born outside of London, England, and raised in the Boston suburbs, LeBaron developed an early fascination with airplanes that persists to this day. When he was in grade school, however, LeBaron鈥檚 gaze shifted to the natural world, and he eventually went to earn a master鈥檚 degree in zoology at the University of Rhode Island, where he logged thousands of hours flying over the ocean to count marine mammals, turtles, and, of course, birds.

After five years working on ornithology projects in Philadelphia, he joined 约炮视频 in 1987 to lead the Christmas Bird Count. It鈥檚 the only job he鈥檚 known since, and, after all this time, he still marvels at the beauty of everyday sparrows and guffaws 鈥渉oly cow鈥 when he spots a cool salamander (he then scoops it up to educate me and the photographer).

鈥淕eoff鈥檚 value is definitely in his amazing brain,鈥 says Kathy Dale, 约炮视频鈥檚 director of science technology, who鈥檚 worked closely with LeBaron for almost two decades. Sure, LeBaron is great at identifying birds, well-versed in natural history, and can talk in painstaking detail about population trends of different species. But perhaps most impressive is his ability to transition from a laser-focused scientist when evaluating a count鈥檚 design and data to an impassioned and sociable advocate when working with colleagues and volunteers. His fervor for the count is contagious, and, as Dale points out, LeBaron was a Christmas Bird Count volunteer long before joining it as an employee. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a program he fundamentally believes in and sees extreme value in,鈥 she says.

When LeBaron joined 约炮视频, it didn鈥檛 take long to realize that not everyone saw as much value in the count as he did. Historically, scientists have bristled at the idea of using data collected from non-experts. Time and again, he heard from ornithologists and biologists that there was no way to ensure that a volunteer in Boston was counting birds in the same way as one in Houston or had the same skill as another in Denver.

It wasn鈥檛 so much dismaying as it was frustrating. While LeBaron understood scientists鈥 concerns, he never believed they had much merit. The best thing about the Christmas Bird Count method, he says, is that it doesn鈥檛 matter if there are variations in how bird counts are done in different locations, so long as 鈥淚 do my count my way every year and the people in Houston do their count their way every year.鈥 As a whole, he emphasized to skeptics, the CBC is tuned to show trends鈥撯搕he changes in one place, over time.

As years on the job turned to decades, LeBaron also had to push for the Christmas Bird Count itself to evolve and change over time. He embraced technology and transformed the count from an analog operation that resulted in a 700-page paper publication each year into a  that鈥檚 available to anyone interested. It wasn鈥檛 the easiest undertaking, he says, as he had to convince thousands of mostly older compilers to abandon paper and pencil and log into a new digital world. 鈥淚t took quite a bit of coercing and cajoling and begging,鈥 he half jokes. During this initial digital transition, he often dealt with customer service complaints of people forgetting their passwords or struggling with the site. 鈥淣ow the customer service calls we get are, 鈥榳hy don鈥檛 you have this ready for me yet,鈥 LeBaron says.

The more accessible and transparent the data became, the more the scientific community trusted it. Take Ray Telfair, a biologist who spent years at the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and now is helping update the Birds of North America entries for Neotropic Cormorant and Cattle Egret鈥攖wo species that he鈥檚 been tracking for more than 20 years. Though he has long relied on the Christmas Bird Count data, he remained skeptical of it. 鈥淚n the back of your mind you鈥檙e always wondering if it鈥檚 an actual trend or an artificial trend given all the potential variables,鈥 he says. But recently Telfair did a deeper study comparing roughly 40 years of Cattle Egret data from the Christmas Bird Count and the Breeding Bird Survey, run by the United States Geological Survey every spring.  When both were graphed, Telfair says, they almost superimposed themselves. To have two different data sets tell the same story wasn鈥檛 just a coincidence鈥攊t was evidence of the quality of the counts, he says.

It鈥檚 these types of success stories that delight LeBaron and compel him year after year to lead one of the largest and longest-running community science programs in history. While he鈥檚 not a boastful man鈥攖he only thing he brags about throughout the day is that he managed to put 440,000 miles on his old Chevy Citation鈥擫eBaron does puff up with pride when pointing out that approximately 700 peer-reviewed studies have now been published using Christmas Bird Count data, not to mention 约炮视频鈥檚 landmark 鈥. 

The staggering body of research supported by the Christmas Bird Count ranks high in his list of career accomplishments, but he hopes this achievement isn鈥檛 lost on the legion of birders who do the heavy lifting each December. He sometimes worries that he鈥檚 spent too much energy convincing the scientific community of the count鈥檚 value and not enough time explaining to some 50,000 volunteers how much they鈥檝e accomplished. 鈥I know the Christmas Bird Count is a valuable data set for people who are trying to figure out what鈥檚 going on with birds,鈥 he says. "But I don鈥檛 think a lot of people who are doing the count quite understand that.鈥

F

or most participants, the Christmas Bird Count is a one-day affair. For LeBaron, it鈥檚 a year-round odyssey. There are data to analyze, reports to produce, and requests from scientists all over the world to fill. He spends more time holed up in his home office in the Berkshires thinking about birds than any sane person should. As such, LeBaron says he doesn鈥檛 get to go birding as much as he鈥檇 like to these days, which makes his annual journey to Rhode Island from his home in western Massachusetts all the more special. Most years, it鈥檚 the one and only day he鈥檒l actually get to spend time with Wilson, his buddy of a quarter century who he first met on the Christmas Bird Count.

As the two men make their way through Ninigret, they joke about their aging eyes, chew over the promises and perils of retirement, and speak in solemn tones of a mutual friend who鈥檚 suffering from dementia. Though the wind persists and the mercury is dropping, the scenery is stunning and there are plenty of birds. A Great Blue Heron stands in a shallow pond, basking in the winter sun. A handful of Cedar Waxwings streak across the sky, and a Yellow-rumped Warbler rustles in some thickets.

At a clearing in the trail that looks out on a cove, LeBaron spots the Lesser Black-backed Gull standing atop a rock. It鈥檚 compact and sleek, with sturdy yellow legs and rich black feathers. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 its rock, in its cove, in its pond for the last 16 years,鈥 LeBaron says. He and Wilson take a few minutes to peer through the scope and mull over their history with this far-flying bird.  

It鈥檚 a joyful moment for the two of them, and a bit of relief. There鈥檚 no telling how old the gull is, but it was already an adult when they first found it.

All day long, LeBaron and Wilson have been pointing out signs of change in this small slice of Rhode Island鈥攈edges in a field that have been uprooted; a small forest that鈥檚 been dramatically thinned; and a bridge that once offered up a good spot for birds now being ripped up and rerouted to accommodate increased traffic. Traversing these same routes year after year, they鈥檙e primed to notice the subtle alterations to the landscape鈥攋ust like the birds that visit.

With daylight burning and more ground to cover, they each take a last look at the gull through the scope. 鈥淚t鈥檚 like seeing an old friend,鈥 Wilson says. And with that, he and LeBaron are back on the trail, chatting the way old pals do, and looking for more birds to count.