Nature's Notebook

In the world of bird identification, there is a hierarchy of proof — what might be called the rules of evidence.  The only truly incontrovertible proof is the actual bird: a specimen. In the days before binoculars and cameras, of course, this was the only kind of acceptable evidence, which is why early ornithologists such as John James Audubon shot birds in order to identify them, and why museum drawers are filled with bird skins, i.e. specimens.  (The first specimen of any species, from which it is originally identified, is known as the type specimen, and typically all other skins collected subsequently are compared to the type specimen.)

 Second to the specimen is videographic or photographic evidence.  Even so, only recently has this kind of evidence been accepted as proof of a new species — mainly because, as discoveries of new species become less and less frequent, the concern is that killing the specimen might jeopardize the species’ existence if there are very few individuals to begin with. (To be fair, some people object to the killing for scientific purposes on moral or emotional grounds.)

Nonetheless, photographic evidence of a new species must conform to a high standard; probably only a bird photographed in the hand would be accepted as proof. Why? Because videos and photos may be notoriously unreliable. Take the case of an “old,†not new, species: the possibly extinct (or not) ivory-billed woodpecker.  The now infamous, blurry five-second video clip of a bird taken in the swamps of Arkansas two years ago has divided the birding community, with many claiming it is a common pileated woodpecker and its authors and defenders staunchly maintaining it is the mythical bird of the bayou.

 Finally, there is written documentation. If you have ever been on a Christmas bird count, you may know that if you see anything unexpected — which does happen — you are required to write a detailed description of what you saw, even making a drawing of it, however crude, if possible. You may not “cheat†and consult a field guide. The report is then submitted to experts who make a determination of whether to accept the sighting as valid.

By now, you’re surely wondering what all this has to do with the drawing of two wild cats on the front page? Well, it occurred to me that with the rash of anecdotal reports I have received in the past couple of months about sightings of mountain lions in the Northwest Corner, it might be helpful to review these “rules of evidence†— both as a way of encouraging observers to document their sightings as carefully as possible, and also perhaps explaining why Connecticut wildlife officials do not confirm the existence of mountain lions in the state. Thus far, we lack phsycial evidence — which for mammals also includes scat and tracks — and photographic evidence.

 A convincing report might at least begin with a complete written description and drawing. One reason for this is the possibility of mistaking a bobcat for a mountain lion. Many people, when I point this out, answer, “I’m sure it was not a bobcat.† A better answer, I politely suggest, would be to put down on paper exactly what it is you did see. A good friend of mine, a superb birder, once mistook the top of a lamppost for a falcon. No one should be offended by the implication. Instead, rise to the challenge and document what you observe.

 Never having seen a mountain lion in the wild, I’m not qualified to speak about the identification nuances, so I will merely quote the following passage (courtesy of the Missouri Department of Conservation):

 â€œThe mountain lion is a large, slender cat with a small head, small, rounded ears that are not tufted, powerful shoulders and hindquarters, and a cylindrical tail that is long and heavy. The tail has a small dark hook in the end and usually hangs down next to the hind legs. The body fur is short and soft.

 â€œThe adult mountain lion is distinguished from the bobcat by its large size (total body length of 60 to 102 inches); uniform coloration of grizzled gray or dark brown to buff or light orange; and a tail length of 21 to 35 inches (up to half its body length). A male mountain lion weighs 140 to 160 pounds, while a female weighs 90 to 110 pounds.â€

Reading this description, I’m especially struck by the length of the tail on a mountain lion – half its body length!  To this, I would only add that some people wrongly assume a bobcat has no tail, when in fact it has a tail several inches long, albeit “bobbed†upwards.

 There is something terribly alluring, and at the same time terrifying, about the thought of mountain lions in our region. I can’t deny wishing to catch sight of one of these wild animals, but I’m not sure I want them living in close proximity with us.

 Fred Baumgarten is a naturalist and writer. He may be reached at fredb58@sbcglobal.net. His blog is thatbirdblog.blogspot.com.