We also discovered why the Australian Magpie has such a fearsome reputation when one repeatedly attacked us alongside the main highway through Charter Towers.

I last visit Bosque six years ago. There had been a lot of photographers then but the explosion of interest that has occurred with the digital age now makes photographers at Bosque far more numerous than birders. On some evenings at a Sandhill Crane roost the photographers outnumbered the cranes as rows of telephoto lens trained on small flocks tumbling out of the red evening sky.

Both the Snow Goose and Sandhill Crane feature prominently in our book and although I already have a lot of material on Sandhill Cranes I was lacking one or two special shots of Snow Geese. The week gave me some fantastic opportunities but one magical moment will live with me for a long time. During the middle of the week on one night the temperature dropped to - 13 deg C. As it got light I looked out on 40,000 Snow Geese the closest no more than 5 metres away all packed tightly on the ice. The sun at Bosque rises fast, as it peeped over the horizon a red glow illuminated the necks of the geese, pools of breath rose from calling birds backlit against the light, this scene lasted just a few seconds before the light became too harsh, but long enough to bag some pleasing images, one of which I hope will make into the book.

While in New Mexico I visited a number of rock art sites including Petroglyph National Monument near Albuquerque home to a number of symbolic bird petroglyphs. They include a magnificent Macaw a symbol of the once busy trade in macaw feathers and live birds made by the Pueblo Indians.

Other interesting glyphs included some controversial footprints that some say are Roadrunner prints and others dispute, so many of the illustrations seem open to interpretation. The roadrunner is New Mexico’s state bird and its popularity in everyday life is reflected in business names, on signs and the local radio travel bulletin is known as roadrunner travel.

Mountain Bluebirds gave some great photo opportunities with a flock of around 15 birds regularly visiting a Juniper tree in the desert. Gambell’s Quail proved far more elusive, a regular either heard or filmed breaking cover in westerns, these quail scurry in groups through the desert scrub giving the briefest of views. After baiting a site with seed for five days I finally enticed a group within range of the camera.

The best known of the stories about the cloud cisticola is an old, apparently traditional story found widely across southern Africa. In a version recorded in the Transkei region of the eastern Cape in the early part of the twentieth century, the central drama involves a competition organised by all the birds to find a suitable leader from among their number. With the jackal acting as overall judge, each species attempts to fly as high as possible. None can apparently fly higher than the vulture but, just as jackal asks him to return to Earth as victor, all the assembled birds are startled to observe the tiny silhouette of a cloud cisticola emerging from concealment in the vulture’s plumage and briefly flying higher still. This feathered mite then flies down and is duly crowned their king, but some birds accuse him of cheating, at which he instantly vanishes into a small hole. While owl is set to guard the cisticola’s sanctuary, the others go in search of something with which to dig him out, and when they finally return to discover that the cisticola has already escaped, they are as angry with owl as they are with the initial fugitive. Owl too then vanishes down the hole and to this day he is so hated by other birds he is obliged to fly by night. (There is another Zulu version of the same story but with small variations, most notably the cloud cisticola is replaced as central character by a cisticola relative, the neddicky. See http://www.canteach.ca/elementary/africa7.html)The Xhosa story is most remarkable for its virtually identical structure to a European tale of the winter wren and its own election as king of birds.  In this version, the same competition is played out, but the birds involved are the wren and the eagle. This is a really ancient European story and even Aristotle (4th century BC) alludes to the conflict between these two birds. The most resonant parallel is the identical inclusion of the owl’s role, by which is explained that bird’s nocturnal lifestyle and enmity with other birds. This coda to the main wren/eagle competition occurs in the version of the story recorded by the Grimm Brothers.

How can one account for the exceptional similiarities? Is the African version, which surfaces in the early twentieth century according to Godfrey, Robert, Bird-Lore of the Eastern Cape Province, Witwaterstrand University Press, Johannesburg, 1941, pages 92-96, a tale first disseminated by Europeans and then adopted as a Xhosa/Zulu story in its own right? Or is it, indeed, completely independent and the similarities a matter of coincidence?

Very often responses to the same or similar birds are identical regardless of place. For example, behaviours that are encouraging of, and demonstrate deep reverence for, swallows are almost universal. In North America, the purple martin was encouraged to nest near the encampments of Native Americans (in hollowed gourds), just as Europeans have encouraged and protected swallows in Europe, and just as the Chinese have held them in high esteem in China. So how do we interpret the parallels between the stories of the wren and cloud cisticola as King of the Birds? And views or information would be welcome.

I have covered a number of stories so far this year, traveling to Nebraska in April with Mark to cover the Sandhill Cranes on the Platte and lekking prairie chicken. In February I visited Hokkaido to shoot Red-crowned Cranes, Steller’s Eagles and Blakiston’s Fish Owl. A number of other trips have been equally successful, but perhaps the most memorable was a visit to Mongolia from which I have just returned. I travelled to the Altai Mountains in western Mongolia to shoot the annual Eagle Hunters Festival held in Ulgii on the first weekend of October each year, this is the story of festival day.

Towards dusk on the day prior to the festival I watched the hunters coming in off the steppe on horseback, many galloping in pairs, some four abreast each with an eagle on their glove, all heading for town. That night a family group of Kazakh musicians came to our Ger camp entertaining us with some rousing Kazakh folk songs. From each instrument hung a bunch of feathers which I later discovered were Eagle Owl feathers. Indeed many of the Kazakh’s carried these, some had them in their hats, my driver had a big bunch hanging from his rear view mirror. They are important good luck charms to muslims in this part of western Mongolia as they believe the intricate patterning on the feathers resembles the letters from the Khoran. These bunches of feathers are highly sought after. Dalai Han an eagle hunter living in this part of the Altai mountains, told me he hunts Eagle Owls with his eagle though they are now scarce. When he does catch an owl the feathers are distributed among family and close friends.

Awaking just before dawn on festival day I crawled out of my sleeping bag and stepped out of the Ger, the brilliant night sky with its bright shining stars was receding to a beautiful pink dawn. Soon after breakfast we headed into town.

Eagle hunters on horseback were starting to converge on the town square. Some dressed in beautiful fur coats, the coats of mainly foxes caught by their eagles, others in Kazakh dress with fur trimmed hats. Some of these nomads had travelled nearly 100 miles to be here, this being a big social event. Locals and a few tourists mingled among the hunters, then at 11 am music started playing from a stage at the head of the square, the hunters surged forward, spectators scrambled out of their way. Lining up they were addressed by the President of the Eagle Hunters Association, this year a record 82 hunters had gathered. Once the address was over they were led around the square by a flag carrying official from the association, to music and loud cheers the horses thundered past doing four circuits before stopping at the stage again. Then off they went again before dispersing.

I raced back to the area of steppe above our Ger camp where a parade ring and stage had been set up. An archery competition was already underway. Eagle hunters were starting to arrive from the town and register their attendance. Once all the hunters had assembled, the first competition began, for the best turned out hunter and horse. Each took it in turns to gallop up to the stage where judges held up scores, the best receiving all nines. During lunch a horse race among local nomads took a route miles across the steppe around a distant mountain and back. At the base of a hill hunters gathered many flying their eagles short distances to the glove in readiness for the next competition. This entailed the eagle being taken halfway up the hillside and the bird then being called by it’s owner on horseback below, those that descended the quickest while the rider was moving were given the highest marks, those that did well galloped at full tilt towards the crowd and stage holding their eagles aloft.

Before this competition had begun, spectators had been warned to remove any red clothing as the eagles are attracted to the colour. A couple of unlucky children ignored this plea. The first a boy was swooped on by an eagle and many people rushed to his aid, remarkably he was unhurt despite his blood curdling screams. Another boy was targeted but just before the eagle hit home he had the presence of mind to run between two vehicles and dive to the ground. A third young girl happened to run across the parade ring just as an eagle was released to fly to the glove. Wearing an orange top and being small and running away this proved too irresistible to the eagle which hit her with such force that she lifted off the ground falling in a heap, the eagle clutching her coat which then tried to lift her off the ground. Spectators pulled the eagle off her and although physically not hurt she suffered shock.

The day ended with a game of Kurbar a form of tug of war with a goat skin while on horseback. This was highly entertaining and with the crowd becoming highly charged over the contests the Police had to step in and control some more over enthusiastic spectators who tried to influence the result.

During the day I photographed many different aspects of the festival and interviewed a couple of hunters which was fascinating. One of the highlights was encountering the family pictured below who owned a Saker Falcon. Note the eagle Owl feathers in the hats of the girls who are in traditional Kazakh costume. A few other stories resulted from this trip. One of the most interesting being the custom of those in the Gobi Desert hunting Henderson’s Ground Jays for their livers which are prized for medicinal purposes. This proved a difficult bird to see and I only glimpsed one individual that flew before I was within a couple of hundred metres, no doubt they have good reason to be shy!

One of the highlights was a chance to visit some particularly rich areas that form part of the Samborobón park, a largely coastal grassland patch of about 25,000 sq km that borders the Bahia Samborobón. We had two very special days in the company of the park rangers, Gabriel Castresana and Pablo Rojas, who not only kindly showed some of the best areas they proved wonderful informants on local relationships between pampas dwellers and some of the birds.

One of the most characteristic species of the region is the beautiful large plover, Southern Lapwing, which seems virtually ubiquitous and perches at times on rooftops in town centres. In Argentina it is called tera commún, a name echoic of the bird’s springs calls, which formed almost a permanent soundtrack to our experience. Their eggs are collected and eaten, although Pablo, whose family have been intimately connected to pampas life for generations, explained how they were harvested with ecology in mind. As children they were taught how to tell if the egg contained a developed embryo (only the freshest eggs were taken) and eggs were often left in the nest to ensure continuity of supply.

Another remarkable practice stemmed from the bird’s urgent vocalisations. A young bird would be taken and pinioned and kept around the farmhouse as a sort of early warning system for the occupants. The bird would eventually learn the identity of the householders and would only call if it saw strangers approaching. Southern lapwings have a remarkably sharp red spur on the edges of the their wings and with this weapon the birds can easily take on and frighten away cats and dogs.

The abundance of these plovers and the interactions of local people reminded me of an older Derbyshire (my home county in the UK) where the northern lapwing played much the same role. Plover eggs have probably been harvested wherever humans and plover co-exist, and often, as proven by the birds’ remarkable abundance at Samborobón, without detriment to the species. Sadly it is habitat changes which have caused the species to decline in Britain and elsewhere in Europe. But I wonder if anyone has encountered similar plover-human interactions elsewhere?

The other remarkable species of the pampas is the national bird the rufous hornero. It’s a beast with massive personality. Wherever there are people and human structures this bird has found a home. Their loud duetting calls are heard everywhere, but they are not quite as universal as the nests. Hornero mean ‘baker’ and draws on the dome-like oven structure in which they breed. The nest closely resembled the traditional mud ovens once used widely across southern South America, and hence the name.

We visited a small environmental centre based at the former house of the Anglo-Argentinian writer, W H Hudson. The dwelling is now virtually in the southern suburbs of greater Buenos Aires, but at one time it was on an open grass plain. It was this landscape which was so memorably described in Hudson’s autobiography, Far Away and Long Ago, as well as in several other wonderful books on the region’s wildlife including The Naturalist in La Plata) It was really lovely to find what were presumably children’s sculptures based on the hornero’s prototype.

Publicity has been a major priority and on returning from Buenos Aires we have a feature on the BBC Radio Four’s World on the Move series about. (Perhaps tune in next week. I’ll give you the time and date when they are finalised.) Swallows are among the most cherished of bird worldwide and it is extraordinary to see how responses span continents and millennia.

They were harbingers of spring for the ancient Greeks, just as they serve much the same role in modern China. In fact one community, a rural hill community called the Miao of Ghizou province specifically shape their agricultural year, based on a weather prophesy derived from the date of the swallows’ return. The birds breed inside Miao houses and they note the exact time of their reappearance in spring. From this comes a prediction of the coming summer weather and a date to begin sowing their rice paddies.

Though modern suburban USA couldn’t perhaps seem more different, Americans share the apparently universal love of swallows and martins. In fact if anything their attachments are even more profound. It is estimated a million people in North America put out martin houses for the purple martin and the entire population of this bird east of the Rockies now nests in man-made structures. If you have stories or experience of any of these themes then we would love to hear from you.

You can join in the discussion and contribute directly to the book, but if you have something you want to say on a subject not presently being treated, then you can also send an email to Mark Cocker or David Tipling.

Most contributions to the book will be relatively short and we suggest an upper blog limit of 300 words. Don’t forget to add your name, town or district, and country. All contributions that appear in print will be acknowledged individually.

Here are examples of some wonderful contributions already incorporated into the text of the book.

Before contibuting it is helpful if you read the introductory sections entitled Birds and People and How You Can Get Involved in the Book. You can also ask Mark Cocker or David Tipling directly by emailing your query.