Foreword
by Robert Bateman
Text: 1 2 3 4 5 6

For most of human history, our species has lived close to nature and therefore has been familiar with the names of their neighbors of other species. Even today, the few remaining tribes of hunter-gatherers can name thousands of kinds of plants and animals and what they do through the seasons. In our modern society, it has been said that the average person knows only 10 wild plants but can recognize 1,000 corporate logos. It should be the other way around. How can we hope to preserve and protect biodiversity if we don't even know the inhabitants of the ecosystem? The key to repairing this damaging information gap is the field guide. If I had my way, field guides would be standard texts in every classroom, and learning to know other species would be an important part of school curricula.

It is difficult to say whether young Roger chose birds or whether the subject of bird study chose him. There is something universal and compelling about birds. Peterson's close friend, Victor Emanuel, has said, "Birds have attracted the interest of more people than any other living things because of the variety and vividness of their colors, the beauty of their voices, and their complex behavior." Peterson often observed that "they are the most intensely alive of all creatures -- often moving, darting, hopping, flying, or at times migrating thousands of miles." By observing them and appreciating them, birders seem to absorb some of this tremendous life force and therefore stay very much alive themselves.

I have been a birder since the age of 12 when I started my first Peterson-based bird list. I have evolved strong opinions through the years about what makes the most useful field guide. Peterson has it just right, to my taste. I became exasperated by "artsy" attempts at awkward poses and foreshortened positions. Vegetation and bits of habitat are superfluous, in my view. For comparison's sake, similar species should be in standardized similar poses. Attempts at shading should be minimized, used only to inform the shape of the bird. Anything else is distracting and confusing. It is not easy. I tried it once. I did one plate of curlews for a proposed, but never published, book on shorebirds of the world by John Williams. It was agony. Admittedly, curlews, with their subtle mottling, are no picnic to portray. I vowed never to attempt it again, and my admiration for Roger Tory Peterson increased by leaps and bounds. He regularly spoke to me and others of the "ball and chain" effect that working on a field guide produces. The discipline is staggering: You cannot get loose and sloppy even once. You must always pay attention, not only to the detail, but to the general shape and form. A Red-tailed Hawk is not just a Red-shouldered Hawk wearing a different coat. The birds have a different "feel."