November 21, 2019
Common Goldeneye, a circumpolar species found in North America and Siberia
Common Goldeneye, a circumpolar species found in North America and Siberia
If, prior to November, 2016, you were confident that the ancient rhythms of the natural world buried deep in our DNA were foundational to our shared humanity despite differences in skin color, origin myth, or personal pronouns, the last three years have been jolting.  Ever the optimist, though, I’d like to throw you a bone, courtesy of a birder friend who sent me a fascinating piece from the October issue of The Verge.

The Verge, according to Vox Media’s mission statement “covers the intersection of technology, science, art, and culture.”  To me that just about covers “humanity,” and the article my friend passed along recounts an unexpected problem faced by Russian raptor researchers tracking migratory Steppe Eagles, endangered by habitat loss and wind turbines.  Those issues sound familiar, but how about this—one eagle, expected to settle down in Kazakhstan (google Kazakhstan for a quick central Asian geography tutorial), eventually went all the way to Iran.

Steppe Eagles, like our North American eagles, roam during summer months and Kazakhstan is out of the SMS (text messaging) range on their tracking devices.  When the eagle’s summer coordinates came pouring in from Iran, the researchers discovered “roaming” fees from Iran were as much as twenty times those in Russia and soon depleted their study funds.  They did exactly what you’d expect, though the result might surprise you.  They initiated a crowdfunding campaign, the rubles poured in, and the project continued.

As a birder I found the story itself uplifting, but what really fascinated me was clicking on the Russian Raptors Research and Conservation Network link, hitting the translator button, and following the VK (Russia’s equivalent to FaceBook) posts from Elena Shnayder, a Russian field ornithologist specializing in the Steppe Eagle.  Her passport has been stamped in the Netherlands, Crimea, Israel, and India, and her posts often read like a typical millennial on FaceBook—catching up with distant friends, selfies from her many road trips, musings about the weather, concerns about the environment.

I’m guessing the translator is British because when Elena talks about bird banding, it is called “ringing,” and the lack of English equivalency for many Russian words renders the translations spare and rather poetic, a seemingly prescient circumstance because her love of nature and her work to preserve it spoke to me like poetry.  She is apparently based in Novosibirsk, and any birder will appreciate the photos of western Siberian species they’ll never see, the successes and failures in her field work, and misgivings about the government increasing the logging harvest in a regional cedar forest.

The posts also spoke to me on a personal level:  her affinity for raptors parallels mine; she recently began using Canon’s 100-400 ISII zoom lens which has become my preferred walking around lens; and her favorite singer is Lana Del Rey who is near the top of my female vocalist list.  Still, I am neither a scientist nor a millennial, and though I had a semester reading Russian literature in Russian while working on a post-graduate degree, I could not speak a word of it today.  I have never set foot in the Eastern Hemisphere, have never held a Sakir Falcon in my hands, and know I will never endure a Siberian winter.

By many accounts Elena Shnayder is, to me, an “other,” should be an “other,” but I would love to hike in her steppes (pun intended, not a misspelling), document her work with my camera, speak with her about our place and purpose on this planet.  We do, in fact, speak the same language.  We bleed the same color.  We have only one planet.  There can be no boundaries.
Northern Hawk Owl, a circumpolar species found in North America and Siberia
Northern Hawk Owl, a circumpolar species found in North America and Siberia