Haikubox

My latest toy, and perhaps birthday and Christmas present, is a Haikubox*, “the smart device that brings you real-time alerts sound recordings, and loads of information about your birds.” With the huge popularity of the Merlin app since it added sound identification of birds, of course someone decided what we birders needed was a continuous monitoring of our yards for birds. Et violà, the Haikubox was invented. Made in Sarasota by people from Cornell.

They were right. I love my Haikubox. It sends me alerts to my phone of all the birds in my yard. The screaming red shouldered hawks I hear, and the migrating warblers up in the trees that I’ll never see. Haikubox records them all. Some I’m on the lookout for: ruby throated hummingbirds, Eastern bluebirds, and brown thrashers. I’ve disabled the alerts for cardinals, Carolina wrens, and blue jays since they are around all the time. 

Spaulding said it was the lazy birder’s friend. According to him, now I don’t even have to go outside to see what’s there. I can just look at the alerts on my phone. Could be true. The website says, "Haikubox can be used for passive acoustics monitoring (PAM), an innovative, powerful and inexpensive way to study many animals, including invasive and endangered species." Hmmm.

I think the box can hear our whole yard and beyond. At first, we plugged it in on the porch, but now it’s stationed on the boathouse. I’m getting alerts for chimney swifts, green wing teals, and black bellied whistling ducks that are flying over. Interestingly, it didn’t hear the wild turkeys and sandhill cranes on Lake Down behind the houses across the street even though their calls were very loud. Maybe the AI hasn’t learned those calls.

Ironically, my most exciting recent spotting was a sora that I’ve seen three times tiptoeing out of the canal-side bushes to go eat under my bird feeders. That Haikubox didn’t alert me because the bird wasn’t making any noise. I was clearing out the Spanish needles to make way for more bananas. Sitting back in the bushes, I noticed it peeking out. My phone was too far away to grab for a picture. At first, I was sure it was a black rail. I can dream. When I moved, it scurried back towards the canal. The next day I was again down in the brush when it came out to feed. I played its song from my Sibleys app, and it peeked out at me. The third time, I’d walked out to the boathouse to check on a bunch of bananas, and the sora was feeding away. I snuck into the house to get Grant, but it had disappeared by the time we creeped over to the screen to look at it. I haven’t worked in the area for a couple of days. This morning I’m going to try calling it again. And have my phone at the ready for a picture.

Speaking of black rails, I’ve signed Patten and me up for the black rail trip during Orange Audubon's North Shore Birding Festival on November 30th. The trip’s info says we should plan on being content to just hear it, since we’re are unlikely to see this elusive bird, so the trip is recommended for those with good hearing. I’ve made an appointment with an audiologist to have my hearing checked. If it’s deteriorated, I’m buying cheap ($299) hearing aids. My high school girlfriend, and fabulous birder, Jane did that and can now hear all the birds that Merlin can. A priceless value.

* Currently $399 for box and 5 year membership.