Howdy All! Marshall, I got a hearty laugh out of the enthusiasm you put into your subject line about a Downy Woodpecker at Smith Island. I know of only a few people who'd get that kind of thrill at seeing a Downy Woodpecker out of place. Congratulations on a great sighting! The thrill of discovery is one of the many pleasures of birding. And kudos to you and Jim and others who keep good records. Our ability to conserve, as it relates to birds and birding, will only be as good as the records we maintain. (How would we know to save a tract of land if we did not know what was already there?) And Ellen, thanks for reminding us to be constantly aware of the things we do and how it affects conservation. While I think we all mean well, our actions do not always reflect the best interests of the world around us. The amount of effort I put into last year's [purely selfish] birding extravaganza had plenty of costs, and not all related to conservation either. I burned plenty of fossil fuels in 100,000+ miles of travel. I ate plenty of crummy sandwiches at gas stations and convenience stores for which I am wearing an extra 20 lbs. I didn't take time to go to a doctor last year until Dec 29--and I am still sick. I moved at the end of March and have yet to unpack. I have stacks of unopened mail cluttering my apartment and magazines still in their wrappers. I chose not to contribute to a 401k this year so that I would have more money to contribute toward my birding goal. I still have a couple unpacked suitcases, too. My contract at work is up at the end of January and I still have no positive job prospects. I made no extra effort this year to learn any new computer skills as I spent all my exra time planning for my next trip. I racked up plenty of credit card debt, too. I spent several dangerous all-nighters traveling and birding at risk to both myself and others. At one point, I lived for 3 days on a jar of peanutbutter and a bag of pretzels because it was what I could afford. All of this I did for my own aspirations, my own goals, my own dreams. I did not set out last year to make the world a better place. I did it because I saw a window of opportunity--and I siezed it--for myself. At many times during the year, I stopped myself and asked, "Is it worth it?" After all, I was "just" birding. But it was the experiences that spurred me on last year. Experiences of meeting wonderful people who offered great encouragement for my own selfish goal. I couldn't believe their generosity. And then there were the thrills of traveling to new places and the joys seeing beautiful birds, lots of birds, and the agony of the misses, too. And I was very thankful. Thankful to have feet to hike, eyes to see, and ears to hear. Things I knew I couldn't count on forever. And there was always this little voice inside. With a sence of urgency, it told me, "Hurry. See it now. It may never be the same again." And I knew things would never be the same. It was the voice of my own experience...birding for over 30 years and seeing the decline in habitat and numbers of birds with my own eyes. This last weekend I was in South Carolina playing some very rusty rounds of golf, another hobby of mine that has taken a back seat for many years. This time out, however, I checked my feelings and sentiments. One fairway on a brand new course ran through the edge of a cypress swamp. I felt the pangs of guilt as I offered a golf ball sacrifice to the swamp. My greens fees were paying for the destruction of birding habitat. Ouch. So much for those vile developers...alas, it was me who was the offender this time. The sun, near 70-degree temps, White Ibis in the fairways, Brown-headed Nuthatches in the trees, and singing Pine Warblers made me think of Spring. Ahhh. While I may be able to play less golf and make other contributions to conservation, I'll probably never give up traveling altogether. In fact, it'll probably increase. My passion will always be the adventure of traveling, discovery, and a 10-yr-old's sense of wonder at the world of birding. Though my body ages outwardly, the 10-yr-old birder on the inside never grows older, never grows tired, and longs continually for spring migration, and the return of his favorites, the wood-warblers. He dreams of "fallouts" and the thrill of the first, dazzling, flame-throated jewel of spring, the Blackburnian Warbler. It's his favorite. But keeping lists is fun, too. He kept year lists himself before there was an ABA or an RBA. That probably won't change either. Each new year is different. Every new year starts at zero. Every year is an adventure. Finally (and you thought I'd never finish <grin>), Rachel Carson sums up well the awesomeness of the extraordinary adventure of exploring the great outdoors in her book, _The Sense of Wonder_: "Those who dwell, as scientists or laymen, among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life. Whatever the vexations or concerns of their personal lives, their thoughts can find paths that lead to inner contentment and to renewed excitement in living. Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter." Keep on birding! -Greg Miller Lusby, MD