Written by humans, not AI.
It’s been a year or so of exceptional writing about birds, birding, natural history and the environment. Some of the year’s best include Amy Tan’s mesmerizing The Backyard Bird Chronicles, Margaret Renkl’s The Comfort of Crows, Robin Wall Kimmerer’s The Serviceberry, Robert McFarlane’s magnificent and mind-bending Is a River Alive?, Chris Sweeney’s The Feather Detective, and The Flight of the Godwit by Bruce M. Beehler with illustrations by Alan T. Messer (an adventure story not to be missed). And these are just for starters.
There’s also Raising Hare: A Memoir by Chloe Dalton. Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of Our Deadliest Infection by John Green and They Poisoned the World by Mariah Blake, a book about PFAs and water. And don’t get us started on The Arrogant Ape; The Myth of Human Exceptionalism and Why it Matters by Christine Webb.
And there are still more from which to choose—most of which show up on the lists of other organizations that read much more than our little team can. We’ve included a few ‘best of” lists below.
Like most birders, we have book stacks on our bedside tables and phones loaded with audio and digital books. Not all our favorites show up on these holiday lists—which leaves us wondering why and why not? We think birders would enjoy them. While it is true that our tastes may swing wildly from the philosophical to the scientific to poetic, don’t we all need variety?
Birders, it seems to us, are eager to read widely about birds and birding and regularly veer off into understories.
So in that spirit, here are a few personal favorites that we’ve enjoyed this year and recommend for your winter reading pleasure and holiday giving. Enjoy!
We’ll be hosting events with several of these writers over the course of this year. If you aren’t signed up for our email newsletter (The Chirp Sporadic), now’s the time. Cheers!
Almost all of the titles we recommend below are available at Bookshop.org, a nonprofit that supports small independent bookstores. (Most local shops can also order for you.) Choose one in your neighborhood or choose one in a neighborhood that is having a hard year. We all win, and birds win, too, when we go local.
Please note: Bookshop.org is an Amazon affiliate, so you are still using Amazon’s services. If you have better ideas, please let us know.
Check out your local library, too!
When you’re done reading, bring your books to free libraries, shelters, and bookswaps and share the joy.
By David Lindo, Illustrated by Sara Boccaccini Meadows
Magic Cat Publishing
(September, 2024)
The gorgeous Fly: A Family Guide to Birds and How to Spot Them came out last year before we were ready to make recommendations. Ostensibly a children’s book for all ages, we’re pretty sure even wizened birders will learn a thing or two.
Lindo (creator of London’s “Urban Birder”) doesn’t “kiddify” much—he knows that nature’s complexities are intoxicating to curious kids. Meadows’s lush, exuberant illustrations are not typical child fare either and take some time to reveal themselves.
The perfect book to pique a sense of wonder and explore with children of all ages over and over again.
By Cara Giaimo, Illustrated by Vlad Stankovic
Quirk Books (Penguin Random House)
(October, 2025)
Local science journalist, Cara Giaimo, serves up “self-help” on the half shell in this charming mix of sea life and life advice to boost anyone’s mood.
But if you think a book entitled Leaving the Ocean Was a Mistake: Life Lessons from Sixty Sea Creatures is just that, you’d be wrong (though it is a lot of fun). Giaimo deftly invites us to consider familiar human conditions through the life stories of sixty marine creatures with extraordinary adaptations as a way of raising the question of what it is that makes us different from an angler fish or an octopus. How did such a panoply of adaptations come to be?. (And, hello? What is human nature anyway and how/why did we acquire one?)
A unique and imaginative delight that is also a celebration of what Darwin called “endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful.”
By Stephen Gill
Nobody Books
LIMITED EDITION, 2024
Swedish artist Steven Gill’s distinctive photography is captured in The Pillar. His work could be described as a kind of bird photography steeped in philosophy where birds and metaphysics engage conversations. That book from 2019 now has a “variation,” and the “Variation” is even more beautiful, a hand-assembled artist’s book in a limited edition.
Gill’s work asks us to see change, repetition, replication, accident, mutation, limits, difference, and time through a fixed perspective. The perspective, at first, is of interest, perhaps, to no one but birds. But Gill invests the erstwhile pillar with a kind metaphor that is magnetic, forcing you to rethink whatever you think you might know about time and chance and place.
Gill is currently offering “print your own prints” to anyone making a donation of any amount to UNICEF to help the children of Gaza. Click the button below for details for how to contribute and connect with Gill for your download.
We can’t think of a more beautiful gift to give.
By Adam Nicolson
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
(September, 2025)
Imagine it. Spend time visiting a shed, a bird house, which you have built as your own personal school, in a place where garden and farm blur into the untended and wild–the “rough ground” of Bird School: A Beginner In the Wood. The birds living there, you may think, do not—could not—have complicated lives. But as the British author Adam Nicolson soon discovers, this is not the case.
Nicolson, who has written on topics as diverse as tide pools, gardens, Wordsworth, and English naval history, was never much of a birder before building his shed (except for Scottish seabirds). But when you are a person who is concerned about the environment and on making a piece of land hospitable to more than humans, it’s hard to avoid these things with feathers.
Luckily for us, Nicolson decides to embrace the challenge and become a birder. His enthusiasm for the task contributes to this book’s charm. “Every wood is a bird cosmopolis,” Nicolson writes of his birdhouse patch. “Every blink of life outside the birdhouse window is a planetary phenomenon.”
He also comes to school with an enormous mental book bag filled with ways of organizing and highlighting what he is learning and thinking. Poetry, ancient philosophy, the ancient prophet Elijah, music, art, gardens and soil, history, environmental science and even the practices of Medieval agriculture—he deploys them all in a quest to understand the birds. As readers we experience the great pleasure of learning the birds anew—and then some!
This book is organized like a school day around broad themes—Robins, Tits, Ravens Buzzards, Migration, Blackbirds, Man, and more.In each section Nicholson takes us along to his bird house and on Bird School field trips—not just to see birds, but to hear from musicians about Beethoven’s Opus 133 and the influence of blackbirds, or ecologists on hedgerows and the intermediate disturbance hypothesis, and scientists on bird anatomy. This book is packed with questions—and Nicolson pursues experts and ornithologists across Europe for answers and illuminating conversation.
We all have our ways into birding, though many of us tote smaller bags. Some of us enter from an entirely different door with a different bag of books. Some study species flocks or sexual selection or foraging and then marvel at the ways in which birds evince the abstract. Others are engineers or artists or poets and turn to birds for inspiration or subject matter. And some study birds as hunters and farmers and become experts on the details of bird habitat preferences, and the specifics of each species’ flight styles.
Birds, of course, do not care what frameworks you apply or even about environmental or evolutionary concepts. And more often than not, frameworks ultimately don’t much matter. We all come to birding for different reasons. We all learn something different from the experience, but what we share is that state of being amazed and awed and smaller in the world.
“It is strange how much happiness it brings,“ Nicolson writes about observing a buzzard in flight. “I can hardly tear myself away. I am learning nothing.”
By Sadiah Qureshi,
Allen Lane / Penguin Books
(June 2025)
“This isn’t some species that was obliterated by deforestation, or the building of a dam. Dinosaurs had their shot, and nature selected them for extinction.”
—Ian Malcom in Jurassic Park
Not long ago, while surveying a possible new birding patch, we realized one shrubby section was overcome by invasive plants—glossy buckthorn, multiflora rose, Japanese barberry, and Oriental bittersweet—all originally brought over by Gilded Age landowners to make their gardens (on formerly Indigenous land where native biodiversity had flourished for thousands of years until the people who lived there were killed, infected with diseases like measles and small pox, or eventually “removed”) look more manicured and European. The invaders were thriving at the expense of the wildlife that were native species.
Last year a company unironically named Colossal claimed to have de-extincted the dire wolf. made famous by Game of Thrones, North American dire wolves went extinct about 13,000 years ago, probably due to starvation, climate change and their inability to breed with other canid species (LINK). On their website Colossal writes: “On October 1, 2024, for the first time in human history, Colossal successfully restored a once-eradicated species through the science of de-extinction. After a 10,000+ year absence, our team is proud to return the dire wolf to its rightful place in the ecosystem.” (LINK) (What Colossal did was genetically modify gray wolves, so calling this animal a dire wolf is, perhaps, a little misleading.)
What do these two stories have to do with each other?
A lot, it turns out.
Extinction—the demise of a species—is a peculiarly modern concept. Many of us think of extinction as an unintended consequence of human activity or a normal phenomenon, part of natural selection.
Extinction is more often the result of humans asserting dominion over others. Human preferences, greed, the goal of conquest, the desire for social status and attention, empire building on the large and small scale, genocide, and sometimes desperate circumstance. (Human hunting, for example, contributed to the decline of camel and horse populations, which was a substantial factor in the dire wolf’s demise.)
Qureshi explodes more superficial understandings of extinction in her book. She starts with the extinction of the Dodo—the disappearance of which caused considerable public consternation in the late 1600s as it was seen as inconsistent with the Christian view of God’s a perfect creation. To resolve the extinction of the Dodo, people had to be convinced that the Dodo was somehow not worth saving, and that’ its loss, to be consistent with Christianity. Thus the Dodo became something of a joke and not worth saving. But is a good example of how agendas can shape understanding. Similar strategies are used to justify other mass slaughters and even genocides.
Qureshi looks at extinction from multiple perspectives, weaving together stories as diverse as Neanderthal archeology, the Great American Buffalo slaughter, and the advent of frozen zoos. She interrogates the idea of extinction through history, its use in the language, and the science it appears to represent. Her research is deep and wide and her arguments are built with steel.
Vanished shows that extinction and extermination have been used to inject a kind of inevitability into the consequences of colonization, genocide, industrialization, and politics. But an evolutionary process is not the same as a human act. And, in the case of the Dire Wolf, vice versa
Maybe this is not a book to give to people to cheer them. Qureshi will make your teeth grit, your fury stir, your heart break. A meticulous account of extinction—and environmental, social, cultural, and political forces at its core.
What will we do about it? Why are we waiting? There are no excuses left.
In the late 1800s, Cryphonectria parasitica, a fungal pathogen, was brought to the Americas by the SB Parsons Nursery in Flushing, New York. Parsons imported infected Japanese Chestnut trees for the gardens of his wealthy clients. Parsons himself was the president of the American Society of Landscape Architects and a highly acclaimed designer of some of the most famous public parks and gardens 20 states. Before this parasite took hold, one in four trees in the northeast was an American Chestnut. Within 50 years, however, C. parasitica killed nearly four billion chestnut trees—one of the greatest ecological catastrophes in American history.
By Tim Birkhead
Bloomsbury Sigma
(June 2025)
If a book’s title also includes the word “hideous,” well, you know we’re all in.
The British ornithologist (and Emeritus Professor of Behaviour and Evolution at the University of Sheffield) Tim Birkhead, one of our favorite writers on birds and natural history, knows sea birds in a way that even the most diehard birders do not. Birkhead has been studying the population biology of Common Guillemots since the 1970s. He is also an expert on eggs (a key part of the Great Auk’s story) and the complexity, biochemistry, anatomy, and behavioral aspects of bird mating systems and reproduction. That he’s also willing to indulge both his sense of humor and his outrage in his writing, keeps us coming back.
If you enjoyed the best-selling The Feather Detective, the perfect follow up might be Birkhead’s new book, The Great Auk: Its Extraordinary Life, Hideous Death and Mysterious Afterlife.
Feathers may be at the heart of one avian crime, but, egads, criminal oology might be even worse. (Who knew we’d have two such fantastic entries into the “Avian Crime Stories of The Year” category?)
The Great Auk’s extinction story could certainly be a contender for its own BritBox series. Great Auks were a stunning flightless seabird species that was intensely “population density-dependent,” which simply means Auks need flocks. Many species do not do well without population density—herd animals like horses and sheep, fish like tetras and mackerel, insects like locusts, and birds like many species of seabirds and that other famous-but-now-extinct population-density dependent bird—the Passenger Pigeon.
Birkhead’s riveting account of a spectacular bird, its horrifying demise, and the ongoing near-pathological fixation on collecting Great Auk relics is unlike anything we’ve ever read before, a potent mix of science, history, and human madness. If it strikes you as vaguely familiar or reminds you of what happens when groups of people fall prey to some unfounded or unhinged obsession, you would not be wrong.
CREDIT: The “Great Auk, Northern Penguin, or Gair-Fowl”, “Wood engraving” by “Thomas Bewick” in “A History of British Birds, 1804
Full confession: the criminal underworld of egg collection was unfamiliar to us before this book. Birders are pretty good at reminding people not to collect feathers, but we may be less good at protecting the locations of nests. What we share about nests deserves serious consideration.
While many science writers sit tight and focus on the facts, Birkhead does not shy away from sharing his thoughts or his feelings about this tragedy’s many players. A welcome and astringent reminder for our times, when it seems science is pressured to keep quiet and not rock any boats.
Pro- tip!
Bostonians, you can get a close up look at a magnificent taxidermied Great Auk specimen at the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard. Worth the trip.
By Joan Strassman
Penguin/ Random House
(September, 2025)
Once on a bird walk, we came upon two male Scarlet Tanagers engaged in ferocious battle, complete with shrieks and bill snaps, while a female tanager hopped around excitedly to get a closer look. The warriors ignored us, until finally a lone battered male emerged from the leaf litter with his red feathers bedraggled and nearly glowing. He zoomed off with the female, followed quickly by the second male. A thrill for all who saw it, apparently, and then some!
Why, we often wonder, do people watch professional wrestling or the “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills?” Why as humans, do we never get tired of watching social behavior—conflict, flirting, deceit—even when fake? As social animals, our predilection for watching and dissecting even the subtlest of interactions in our genes.
In her new book, The Social Life of Birds: Flocks, Communes and Families, Joan Strassman, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Washington who studies the genetics of social interaction, explores why birds of a feather flock together. Birds are as social as humans and they give us the chance to observe a different, but no less complex range of social behavior and even understand our own behavior. Learning how birds socialize can also be a pathway into understanding more about birds—and about humans for certain species, behavior can be the most reliable ways a birder can find birds to observe.
From the communal “love the one you’re with” chill of the Cedar Waxing to the constant bickering of gull children and their parents, to Ravens making doe eyes at each other, Peregrine Falcons hunting in pairs, Eastern Bluebirds cheating on their mates, leks and murmurations and mass migrations, the complexity of bird social lives never fails to amaze. For birds, Strassman reveals, sometimes social interaction is a benefit. Other times, it comes at a cost.
Strassman is also the author of Slow Birding: The Art and Science of Enjoying the Birds in Your Own Backyard, a wonderful book about making discoveries in your patch through careful and repeated observation.
In The Social Life of Birds, Strassman offers a view of birds equally informed by evolutionary science and by wonder. She shows us the many varieties of bird groups and behavior and explains what birders should look for when watching them. Her approach to birding is one we can all learn from. Take her advice and your birding experience will be greatly enriched!
By Rosemary Mosco
Workman Publishing Company
(March 2025)
“American Robin noun: a device that converts worms into 100-decibel songs outside your bedroom at 4:00 a.m.”
This pocket-sized gem of a book from local author acclaimed science communicator and cartoonist and comics artist Rosemary Mosco is a keeper! In The Birding Dictionary, Mosco’s distinctive wit and birdy wisdom are on full display here. We all love a good chuckle, but a chuckle that comes with a tasty and nerdy insight activating your love of birds and deepening your knowledge, is even better.
In 200 definitions and 50 wonderful illustrations Mosco also gently peels away at the cracked glue holding together an outdated idea of birding as a stuffy and relatively pompous endeavor.
Even better, she is quick to shine a laser pointer on the goofier aspects of birding because, let’s face it, birding can be pretty goofy. For Mosco, birding should never be too tweedy—it should be fun for anyone, a chance to learn and feel the delight of anticipation and possibility as you practice the patience needed for a glimpse of something cool with your fellow birders, (even if you spend hours sometimes in a buggy swamp at five in the morning and don’t see the bittern you had hoped for)
A treat for any birder or smart alec in your life.
By Katie Stryjewski
Mango
(October 2025)
When we first heard about this book on cocktails inspired by birds, we admit we were a little skeptical. But Dr. Katie Stryjewski, local author and mixologist is also a serious ornithologist.
Each of the 60 recipes in Make Mynah Double: Cocktails for Bird Lovers is an intoxicating combination of facts about birds and recipes for elegant cocktails Stir or shake and sip while you enhance your craft cocktail-making and add to your bird knowledge? We’re in. The cocktails themselves are more than sophisticated enough for the fussiest connoisseurs—creative and inspired.
An excellent gift for birders who like happy hours and something for your holiday party hosts that’s way better than candles.
Here’s an easy-to-make cocktail from Katie Stryjewksi’s book for your next holiday party. (Pick a good bourbon and squeeze the freshest, juiciest lemon you can find.)
Apple Eider
2 oz. bourbon
1 oz. apple cider
1/2 oz. lemon juice
1/3 oz. maple syrup
Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Fill the shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with fresh apple slices.
King Eider
The King Eider, an occasional winter visitor to the Massachusetts coast, is a spectacular bird, built to withstand the coldest ocean water. Stryewski’s cocktail isn’t just delicious—it comes with a closer look at the bird’s scientific name, which roughly translates to “spectacular woolly-bodied duck.”
We’ll be hosting events with several of these writers over the course of this year. If you aren’t signed up for our email newsletter (The Chirp Sporadic), now’s the time. Cheers!
A Bird Club Membership
Give your birder a bird club membership. If you’re in MA, you can find your closest club at this link here. Why join a bird club? Here’s why.
A subscription to Bird Observer
Bird Observer is a journal filled with content created by dedicated and knowledgeable New England birders. An incredible source of local knowledge, it will make you a better birder. And a better human.
For $29 you can buy a Federal Duck Stamp and gain admission to any National Wildlife Refuge that charges a fee. For New England birders, this includes places like Parker River NWR and Great Meadows NWR—and you’ll be supporting wetland habitat conservation.
Membership in the “Lab”
Membership in the Cornell Lab of Ornithology includes a subscription to Living Bird magazine and discounts on the lab’s exceptional educational programs and more. A bargain and a great gift for any birder.