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I recently received an intriguing email from David McArthur, a podcast listener in New York. He wrote about Flaco, a Eurasian Eagle-Owl that escaped and is now living wild in Central Park, right across from his home. David spotted Flaco and posed a fascinating question: could this owl legitimately be added to his life list?
This question taps into an area where I have some experience. Back in 2013, I undertook a Big Year in the Lower 48 states, aiming to observe as many bird species as possible within a single calendar year. The American Birding Association (ABA) sets the official rules for Big Year counts, ensuring fair comparisons among birders. My personal Big Year total reached 604 wild species, but according to ABA rules at the time, only 593 were “countable.” While I happily share my personal count of over 600, I always clarify that my official ABA total, the one used for comparisons, stands at 593.
In 2013, nine of my “uncountable” sightings were introduced species not yet considered naturally established by state ornithological societies. Two others were native endangered species in reintroduction programs still requiring human intervention. Even now, California Condors are monitored, provided with safe food, and sometimes recaptured for lead poisoning treatment. Aplomado Falcons in south Texas also relied on nest platforms back then.
However, the ABA rule evolved a year or two later: “An individual of a reintroduced indigenous species may be counted if it is part of a population that has successfully hatched young in the wild or when it is not possible to reasonably separate the reintroduced individual from a wild-born individual.” This change retroactively applied to state and life lists. Since both condors and Aplomado Falcons were breeding successfully in the wild in 2013, they are now on my official ABA life list. But, Big Year totals remain unchanged as rule changes aren’t retroactive for those counts. Consistency in rules is crucial for fair Big Year comparisons. My efforts to see condors and Aplomado Falcons stemmed from my conservation focus. From a competitive birding perspective, it wouldn’t be fair to retroactively boost my Big Year total when others in 2013 had no incentive to seek out birds deemed uncountable at the time.
ABA rules also stipulate that birds are countable only if they appear on the official checklist for the location of the sighting. Vagrant birds, like the Rufous-necked Wood-Rail I spotted at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge during my Big Year, might not be on the official list initially. But, once a state records committee confirms the bird arrived naturally, it becomes countable retroactively. Those of us who saw the wood-rail in 2013 listed it “provisionally” until the New Mexico committee’s official vote the following year.
While Big Year and ABA lists adhere to strict guidelines, personal lists, including life lists, have no such restrictions. eBird flags the Central Park Eurasian Eagle-Owl reports as “exotic escapee.” If I were near New York, I’d still make every effort to see and photograph it, reporting it on eBird, just as I did with Chukars in my neighborhood. Like the eagle-owl, Chukars are escapees from game farms and not officially countable in Minnesota. Yet, tracking escaped birds remains valuable, especially if some eventually establish breeding populations in the Upper Midwest, as they have in the West.
David McArthur also recounted seeing Helmeted Guineafowl on a country road in Upstate New York, clearly escapees. I have Helmeted Guineafowl on my life list from a 2016 Uganda trip where I saw them in the wild.
Native to Africa, Helmeted Guineafowl have been introduced to the West Indies, Brazil, Australia, and southern France. They haven’t established in America, though aviculturists and game farms keep them. In 2021, I saw and photographed a small flock in Port Wing, Wisconsin. While they were not enclosed, they belonged to a local exotic animal owner, making the sighting less exciting. I didn’t list them on eBird. However, if I see them elsewhere, I will report them. Like Chukars, these reports could offer valuable data if escaped birds start breeding in the U.S.
The odds of Flaco, the Eurasian Eagle-Owl, establishing a wild population are practically zero without wild mates. Yet, if this species ever does establish itself in North America, or if Flaco were to hybridize with a Great Horned Owl, tracking the initial sightings becomes crucial. More immediately, monitoring Flaco is vital for conservation in a city rife with rat poison and other urban hazards. This escaped Eurasian Eagle-Owl’s story highlights the intersection of wildlife and human environments. The owl’s presence in Central Park sparks human interest and raises questions about how we define ‘wild’ and our relationship with nature in urban settings.
Beyond the scientific implications, I’d be thrilled to see a Eurasian Eagle-Owl, the species famed for delivering mail to Draco Malfoy in Harry Potter! Spotting Flaco would create a more memorable and thrilling experience than many of my “countable” lifers. Flaco might not qualify for “official” lists, but the public’s excitement about him proves he’s earned a cherished spot on many personal life lists of avian treasures. And ultimately, isn’t that what a life list should truly be about?
