On a winter morning at the Forsyth Nature Center in Kingston, Mark DeDea takes a phone call from inside what amounts to a living aviary. The conversation competes with constant sound: parakeets and cockatiels, lovebirds, tropical birds calling back and forth from heated enclosures. DeDea pauses now and then, waiting for a break in the chatter, then keeps talking. “I live in a big bird cage this time of year,” he says. “If I get a phone call like this, I usually step outside rather than compete with them, but it’s too cold.”
DeDea is the caretaker at Forsyth and a longtime birder, and this February he’s also one of the local organizers of the Great Backyard Bird Count, the annual citizen-science project that invites people to count birds wherever they happen to be—backyards, parks, waterfronts, cemeteries, sidewalks—and submit what they see. The count runs February 13–16, over Presidents’ Day weekend, with a full slate of guided walks across Ulster County organized by the John Burroughs Natural History Society.
The Great Backyard Bird Count began in the late 1990s as a low-key effort, originally aimed at people watching their feeders. In its early years, DeDea says, it wasn’t always taken seriously by experienced birders. “A lot of old-time birders kind of made a jest of the event,” he says. “It brought a lot of folks out who you wouldn’t necessarily know to be birders.”
That perception shifted as participation grew and technology reshaped the hobby. The arrival of eBird—a free platform developed by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology with partners including the National Audubon Society and Birds Canada—made it possible for anyone to submit observations on a phone and have them folded into a massive shared database. “It made it easier to participate,” DeDea says. “And it made what people were seeing actually useful.”
What once felt like casual watching could now contribute to a broader picture of bird populations and movement. DeDea points out that birders used to rely on long-distance phone calls and weekly recordings just to find out if something unusual had been spotted in the Hudson Valley. “Now,” he says, “somebody can say, in real time, ‘This species is on this telephone pole at this intersection right now.’”
Winter plays a key role in making the count accessible. February, DeDea explains, offers fewer species than spring migration, when birds arrive in large numbers and identification can feel overwhelming. “If we go out in May, we can easily double the number of species,” he says. “That can be a lot for somebody who’s new.”
In winter, the cast is smaller. A walk might turn up 30 or 40 species. A backyard feeder might host a dozen, maybe 20, depending on the neighborhood. Birds linger longer at feeders, offering time to observe and learn. “It’s a manageable amount of information,” DeDea says. “You’re usually given a fair amount of time to view them.”
This year’s weather adds another dimension. Extended cold and deep snow have frozen much of the region’s water and covered natural foraging areas, pushing birds into tighter quarters. “A year like this actually concentrates birds,” DeDea says. “If it’s a mild winter, they’re kind of spread out. With snow cover and ice, they’re easier to find.”
It also means backyard support for birds matters more than usual. “Keeping the feeder stocked and keeping fresh water available is huge,” he says. “With so much water frozen, providing reliable water is critical. It’s almost as important as food this winter.”
The Ulster County schedule reflects a range of habitats. DeDea is leading backyard birding walks in Uptown and Midtown Kingston, aimed at showing what’s possible without leaving one’s own block. Other outings visit Nyquist-Harcourt Preserve in New Paltz, Esopus Bend Nature Preserve, and the Thorn and Wittman Preserves in Woodstock. Waterfront birding is also on the agenda, including a walk tracing the Rondout Creek in Kingston toward its mouth at the Hudson River, an area known for winter waterfowl when patches of open water remain.
“We’re trying to diversify where our walks are,” DeDea says. “That opens up the possibility of seeing different kinds of birds.”
For newcomers heading out on their own, DeDea points to tools like the Merlin app, which helps identify birds by sight and sound. But he’s careful not to oversell technology. “There are cues that happen in the wild that you just can’t get from walking around with an app open on your phone,” he says. “Being out with someone who’s been doing this for 30 or 40 years, you pick up on things like how birds react when a predator’s nearby.”
The social element matters too. Walks are free, open to the public, and intentionally unpretentious. “We even have binoculars to share,” DeDea says. “We want people to not be afraid to join us in the field.”
DeDea’s own entry point came early. Growing up in the 1970s, he remembers winter visits from evening grosbeaks—large, colorful finches that arrived in loud flocks and drained feeders. “They were raucous,” he says. “On a snow day, you’d have to go out multiple times to fill the feeder. They’d land on my arm.”
He drew them at the kitchen table, over and over. Today, evening grosbeaks have declined dramatically—by as much as 90 percent—and are rarely seen in the region. “If it wasn’t for them,” DeDea says, “I don’t know if I would have ever even gotten into birding.”
What he hopes people take away from the Great Backyard Bird Count isn’t expertise or even numbers, though both matter. “Birds are great indicator species,” he says. “Even without binoculars, if you slow down and pay attention to what’s overhead and under your feet, you start to understand the place you’re in.” DeDea then quotes John Burroughs: “Pay attention to what’s overhead and under your feet.”
