The island of Hispaniola, comprised of the Dominican Republic and Haiti, is among the Caribbean’s most exciting birding destinations. With an excess of 300 species recorded, the island is home to an impressive 30+ endemics (more than any other Caribbean island) with all but one of those, Grey-crowned Palm-tanager, found in the accessible Dominican Republic. One of the most celebrated endemic birds of the region is the Palmchat, which is the sole representative of its genus and is the national bird of the Dominican Republic. This new slimmed-down update of the first edition, published back in 2007, is eminently more portable and it has also been revised and updated to reflect recent taxonomic changes. The authors have also opted to split two species yet to be formally acknowledged (Hispaniolan Kingbird and Hispaniolan Eleania) and use the less familiar, though to my mind more appropriate and evocative, Hispaniolan Highland-Tanager and Green-tailed Ground-Tanager for White-winged Warbler and Green-tailed Warbler, respectively. This book follows the standard layout of similar contemporary field guides, with colour plates facing the species text. Overall the illustrations by Dana Gardner are good, and more than adequate for identifying most birds in the field, while the concise text provides information on status, distribution, habits, vocalisation and identification. The introductory chapters are excellent, giving the reader and prospective visitor a sense of what to expect when birding on the island, plus highlights the value of eco-tourism to this relatively under-visited tropical gem. The authors also hope that the book will continue to inspire island residents to appreciate local bird life and work towards helping conserve the countries’ natural treasures. Reading this guide made me long to return to the Caribbean, and indeed to Hispaniola which I last visited in 2000, to soak up its many avian and cultural delights.

The result of two two-week trips by 19 artists, all members of the Society of Wildlife Artists (SWLA), this beautiful book documents the birds and landscapes of Denmark’s Waden Sea National Park. While the artistic styles vary, from pencil and watercolour to oil and scrap metal sculpture, the similarities of tones used – drawn from the places visited – create a unifying vision of the area’s rich wildlife and haunting presence. As powerful as the images is the richly woven text by Colin Williams, touching on the poetic at times in the way that it allows the reader to share the writer’s eye, rather than simply recounting an experience. For the most part the artworks cover species that will be familiar to UK readers, underlining that many of the birds that use the Wadden Sea – think wildfowl and waders – also haunt our shores. As you might expect from a book put together by Nye Hughes – the quietly creative designer – the layout flows gracefully, the respectful space around text and artworks helping to create a book that is deeply reflective and resonant in its sense of place.

Hamza Yassin is well-known for his work as a wildlife cameraman and presenter. He has worked on a whole host of television programmes, including David Attenborough’s Wild Isles, and has presented his own documentaries, in between winning Strictly Come Dancing of course. His new book, Be a Birder, is a truly joyful introduction to the world of birdwatching and never fails to spark enthusiasm in the reader. Although aimed at beginners, this book is excellent for any level of birdwatcher – I’ve certainly learned some new facts through reading it. This book is the perfect tool to take out and about on your first bird walks as it provides a taste of the species you might find. It’s split into sections by habitat, such as ‘Cities, Gardens and Parks’ or ‘Moors and Mountains’, and each section contains 8–10 species typical of that habitat, so wherever you are in the UK you can discover what’s around you. The species range from the common, like a Blackbird, to the unusual and exciting, like a Wryneck. The book provides an overview of each species, including information such as conservation status, things to look out for and how easy they are to spot. Hamza also describes each bird in three or four keywords which is a fun and easy way to help the reader remember them, such as a Redwing being a ‘visiting winter berry-fiend’ or a Green Woodpecker being a ‘large, loud laugher’! The wonderful thing about Hamza’s book is that it’s like carrying your own personal ornithologist around in your pocket. It goes far beyond the typical ID book and contains all the fun stories and anecdotes you’d pick up from going out on a walk with a birdwatcher. He has a fascinating fact for every species which makes you feel like you’re getting to know the birds personally. Knowing the size, weight and distribution of a bird is one thing, but it’s knowing that a Great Spotted Woodpecker has a bouncy flight pattern or that Long-tailed Tits like to hang out in big groups that really helps you spot them out in the wild! Through Be a Birder, Hamza has opened the door of birdwatching to anyone of any age. Both informative and fun, his passion and excitement shines through the text and is highly contagious, it’s hard not to catch the birding bug!

Back in 2002, one of my first jobs in conservation was being part of a four-person RSPB team that monitored and protected the nests of Stone-curlews in the Breckland area of Norfolk, and my love of Stone-curlews is still as strong today. The patch I was assigned to was an estate farmed by Chris Knights, which had a well-trained team of gamekeepers and farm staff who were very adept at finding and protecting the nests. This patch is the inspiration for his book, which looks at Chris’s lifelong interest in these fascinating birds. With their cryptic plumage and large yellow eyes, Stone-curlews are curious birds with very interesting behaviour that most people only get to see distantly in the heat haze at Breckland reserves such as Weeting Heath. As a photographer, Chris is fortunate to farm on a large estate which has a very healthy population of Stone-curlews, and so has easy access to these birds where he can erect hides close to nests and bring to life all aspects of the intimate life of these birds. The book is written with a real passion for both the species and the Breckland landscape. It is a real labour of love from over 60 years photographing them, with stunning photographs throughout which capture many postures and behaviours, often quite comical, that most people would never see, and really endear you to them. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading and reviewing this book, and it has brought back lovely memories of that summer spent with these special birds, and anyone with an interest in not just Stone-curlews but birds and wildlife in general will enjoy it.

Michael McCarthy is perhaps best known for his environmental journalism and nature writing. His skills were recognised by BTO back in 2011, when he was awarded the annual Dilys Breese Medal for outstanding communication of science to new audiences. Fergus The Silent marks a departure from his usual work, in that it is a foray into fiction. You have to admire the ambition of somebody whose first published fictional work is a 440-page novel! Given its length, you won’t be surprised to hear that Fergus covers a lot of ground, from the damage parents can inflict on their children, to toxic academic ambition, seabird conservation and a particularly tricky moral dilemma. The main plot revolves around Miles Bonnici and is set at the turn of the millennium. At the start of the book, we learn about Miles’ career trajectory to a fellowship at the ‘Niko Tinbergen Institute’ at Oxford University, having had a Nature front cover for a paper on extra-pair paternity in Guillemots breeding on the Pembrokeshire island of ‘Skarholm’ during his PhD. However, his interest in birds is purely as a means to surpass the career of his brilliant but unloving physicist father. Miles gets together with Jenny Pittaway, a New Zealander working in Oxford as she finds her way in the world after her own university studies. Miles proceeds to break her heart, but only realises why this (and the birds) matter when he’s sent to report on the effects of the Erika oil spill on the west coast of France by the ‘United Kingdon Offshore Conservation Agency’. The devastation he witnesses finally cuts through his ambition and exposes his soul, specifically when he finds the body of ‘Arty Bu-bu’, a Guillemot from Skarholm whose behaviour underpinned his famous Nature paper. We don’t meet the Fergus of the book’s title until the novel’s second half. The island of ‘Lanna’, the most remote in Britain and Ireland, is threatened with its own oil disaster when exploration starts taking place. Lanna has been closed since 1939, and no seabird surveys take place there. The data on its importance for seabirds could prevent licenses for drilling from being granted. However, Lanna’s seabirds are closely guarded by Fergus, the mysterious warden who spends every breeding season on the island and is weighed down by a secret about the wildlife there. Miles convinces Jenny to come with him to Lanna to survey the seabirds, where they discover Fergus’s secret and grapple with its implications. Since I could hardly precis the plot into less than two paragraphs (and even then I have stopped well short of ending to avoid any spoilers), you’ll realise that Fergus The Silent has many twists and turns, and we meet a large number of characters in a variety of places. I enjoyed working out which UK and European academic and seabirder luminaries inspired the various characters, and unsurprisingly, the author’s descriptions of the natural world and the damage human activity can inflict upon it are excellent. However, I was less convinced by the female characters in the book, who I found a little two-dimensional and shoehorned into traditional gender roles. I also felt like some parts of the plot could have moved along a little more quickly. I see there are some glowing reviews out there from some of the very same people I suspect might have partly inspired some of the characters. Despite my small misgivings, I did think Fergus The Silent was a page turner. So why not get hold of a copy and see what you think?

The author herself acknowledges in her opening note that some offence may be taken by the title, but Jasmine Donahaye’s collection of short essays is much more than it first seems. She elucidates a multi-faceted explanation for Birdsplaining, adding to the anticipated definition the notion of using birds as a way to explore the relationship humans have both to each other and to the natural world, as well as seeing in them a means to understand personal experience. From the Swallows seeking a place to nest in her 18th century Welsh cottage home to a Western Bluebird spotted in California, birds are at the heart of this book. Set within the frame of the author’s own experiences, the 14 individual but connected essays bring up important issues: the human tendency to anthropomorphise the natural world; the colonial history of ornithology and the names of the local guides who have been largely forgotten; the equity of access to nature; the status of birdwatching as a traditionally male-dominated interest to name but a few. However, this isn’t a book that tries to tell you what to think, and functions more as a way to start a conversation rather than an attempt to conclude it. The experiences Jasmine Donahaye describes in Birdsplaining provide a means for personal reflection. It is an unusual, vivid, book which still manages to remain remarkably easy-to-read and enjoyable. It doesn’t shy away from taking on difficult subjects, and I’ve often found myself thinking about it in the days since finishing it.

This book takes you through a year on the author, Phillip Edward’s, home ‘patch’ – a complex area of farmland, saltmarsh, river and coastline. Each chapter covers a calendar month, describing in intricate detail encounters with not just birds but mammals, plants, insects and everything else. Britain's fickle weather provides a backdrop to the seasonal changes. Each month is split into eight different accounts of an observation or discovery from that period. The intimate observations of wildlife are often described in remarkable detail – clearly the author immerses himself in each and every experience, however fleeting it may be. This is an immersive book, but for me a few things might have helped. It’s very much a book with ‘place’ at the heart of it but we never know where that place is – western England is as much information as we get. It would have helped me to know the landscape and surroundings a little better if we were told where it is. Even a sketched map of the immediate area would have helped. There is also one species conspicuous by its absence – human beings. Any thoughts, feelings, or human touches are actively excluded and given that the UK is almost entirely a manmade landscape that seems a missed opportunity. I like places where people and wildlife rub alongside each other, and adding some personal stories may have helped. There are numerous stunning passages in this book and it can really transport you to moments in time. I would treat this as a book to dip in and out of – making a point of picking it up each month to read a section (or chapter) appropriate to the season. This would definitely get you in the right frame of mind to head out there and make your own observations in the field

2nd place in Best Bird Book of the Year 2023 When starting Better Living Through Birding, I was not sure what to expect. Cooper is perhaps most widely known in the UK for the infamous incident in Central Park in 2020, but after reading this book I hope he will be best known in the birding community for his profound connection with birds, his eloquent prose, and his inspiring and often comical insights into the world of birding. This book is a unique blend: part autobiography, part birding almanack, and part exploration of the fascinating realm of comics. It weaves together the threads of Cooper’s life, with birds consistently serving as the vibrant red thread that holds it all together. As a seasoned writer, Cooper expertly intertwines stories from his childhood, his family, his birding adventures around the world, and a cast of endearing characters from his Central Park birding community. If you are a more experienced birder, you will undoubtedly recognise yourself and others in Cooper’s descriptions, both of people and of his experiences with birds. You will ache to see a Blackburnian Warbler from his detailed and emotive descriptions, and feel the renewed sense of awe at a Common Grackle as he talks about his experience seeing the bird through new eyes. For the beginning birder, Cooper’s top tips and “seven wonders of birding” are a great introduction to the hobby. His enthusiasm is infectious, and all birders will find themselves yearning to pick up binoculars and head outdoors to (re)discover the beauty of birds for themselves. Cooper’s personal anecdotes, along with his absolute skill for storytelling, make this book an engaging read from start to finish. His experiences are often humorous, touching, and thought-provoking, making it easy for readers to connect with his journey on a personal level. No matter your background, experience level, or whether you’re a US- or UK-based birder, I thoroughly recommend this book as a balm to the heart.