Flock Together: A Love Affair with Extinct Birds

by B.J. Hollars

Named by Forbes as one of the 12 Best Books About Birds and Birding in 2017

After stumbling upon a book of photographs depicting extinct animals, B.J. Hollars became fascinated by creatures that are no longer with specifically, extinct North American birds. How, he wondered, could we preserve so beautifully on film what we’ve failed to preserve in life?
              
And so begins his yearlong journey to find out, one that leads him from bogs to art museums, from archives to Christmas Bird Counts, until he at last comes as close to extinct birds as he ever will during a behind-the-scenes visit at the Chicago Field Museum.
             
Heartbroken by the birds we’ve lost, Hollars takes refuge in those that remain. Armed with binoculars, a field guide, and knowledgeable friends, he begins his transition from budding birder to environmentally conscious citizen, a first step on a longer journey toward understanding the true tragedy of a bird’s song silenced forever.

Told with charm and wit, Flock Together is a remarkable memoir that shows how “knowing” the natural world—even just a small part—illuminates what it means to be a global citizen and how only by embracing our ecological responsibilities do we ever become fully human. A moving elegy to birds we’ve lost, Hollars’s exploration of what we can learn from extinct species will resonate in the minds of readers long beyond the final page.

Genres: Nonfiction, Nature, Science, Memoir, Animals, Birds

224 pages, Paperback

Published March 1, 2022

About the author

B.J. Hollars is the author of several books, most recently Wisconsin for Kennedy: The Primary That Launched a President and Changed The Course of History, Year of Plenty: A Family's Season of Grief, Go West Young Man: A Father and Son Rediscover America on the Oregon Trail, Midwestern Strange: Hunting Monsters, Martians and the Weird in Flyover Country, The Road South: Personal Stories of the Freedom Riders, Flock Together: A Love Affair With Extinct Birds, From the Mouths of Dogs: What Our Pets Teach Us About Life, Death, and Being Human, as well as a collection of essays, This Is Only A Test. Additionally, he has also written Thirteen Loops: Race, Violence and the Last Lynching in America, Opening the Doors: The Desegregation of the University of Alabama and the Fight for Civil Rights in Tuscaloosa, Dispatches from the Drownings, and Sightings. He and his film partner, Steve Dayton, have also completed a documentary When Rubber Hit The Road,

Hollars is the recipient of the Truman Capote Prize for Literary Nonfiction, the Anne B. and James B. McMillan Prize, the Council of Wisconsin Writers' Blei-Derleth Award, the Society of Midland Authors Award, and received a 2022 silver medal from the Midwest Book Awards.

He is the founder and executive director of the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild and the Midwest Artist Academy, as well as a professor of English at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, and a columnist for The Leader-Telegram. He lives a simple existence with his family.

Reviews

[Laura F-W · Rating 3 out of 5]

“When eagles fall in love, Steve tells me, they fall in love. Literally. Talons locked, the male and female grip one another in freefall, dropping from heaven to earth in what can only be described as some kind of Romeo-and-Juliet inspired death cult…On a good day, the eagles release talons in the final moments, triumphantly peeling back into the air. But on a bad day, they become living proof that love does not conquer all – especially gravity…”

Based on the synopsis I was expecting a quirky gonzo-style journey through the wonderful world of birds, something along the lines of The Men Who Stare at Crows/ Beakonomics/ Around Ireland With a Pigeon. That’s not quite what I got, but it was still an enjoyable read. I wonder whether an over-exuberant synopsis writer is to blame for the mismatch.

In reality, this book is a slightly meandering exploration of the history of bird conservation in Wisconsin – much more specific than I was expecting. It begins with the tale of the ivory-billed woodpecker, which used to inhabit the forests of Wisconsin and other parts of America before habitat destruction and trophy hunting (among others) conspired to put an end to the species in the mid 20th Century. Until, that is, it was spotted again in 2004, prompting an intense and expensive search which turned out to be fruitless. The ivory-bill’s story makes for a good backdrop to explore other bird extinctions and what can be done to stop them, and that’s where I was expecting Hollars to take it. But while the famous (and shocking) extinction of the passenger pigeon was mentioned several times through the book, there was little talk of extinction after that. The book didn’t have a particular focus but did look at two men – one a hermit in the woods, the other a cosmopolitan Wiconsinite – who corresponded about the ivory-bill at the time of its demise in the 1930s and 40s. Hollars becomes oddly obsessed with these two men, even going into the woods at one point to try (and, as it turns out, fail) to find the site of the hermit’s house. I must say I didn’t quite buy into the interest in these two rather flat characters.

While it was engaging throughout, I often felt that I’d lost the thread of logic. I wasn’t quite sure what the overarching idea was. There were lots of visits to museums in Wisconsin to look at stuffed birds and talk to curators, there was some driving around in a 4x4 counting birds (incidentally, I’d have thought a book that claimed to be primarily concerned with the current mass extinction the planet is experiencing would at least touch on carbon footprints/climate change/living sustainably, but this book really didn’t, and no mention was made of the seeming irony of tromping around the country in a huge jeep). There was also some illuminating explanations of how birding works and why some people are drawn to it.

I didn’t dislike this book by any means, but it’s definitely not the kind of broad popular non-fiction I’m used to reading. I think it would be of particular interest to: people who live in Wisconsin or its environs, American birders, people who are really (like really) interested in birds already. I just wasn’t the target audience for this.

[Bonnye Reed · Rating 5 out of 5]

GNAB I received a free electronic copy of this informative memoir from Netgalley, B. J. Hollars and University of Nebraska Press in exchange for an honest review. Thank you all, for sharing your hard work with me.

I love that B. J. Hollars is a beginning bird nut - so many of us can relate to that sense of feeling left out of the conversation, the information, the love that is associated with everyone's favorite bird species. We all start that way. Hollars quickly picks up the baton (and the lingo) of experienced birders, however his favorite bird is, and is always going to be, the ivory billed woodpecker, long extinct. As are the Passenger Pigeon. The Carolina Parakeet. The Dodo, the Labrador Duck and the Goshawk. But he also brings to us the success stories - the California Condor, the Sandhill Crane.

And as he shares his quest for more information, more photos, more art of these awesome but no more birds, these 'endlings', he shares too the knowledge of many conservationists along the way - Frank Chapman, James Tanner, Aldo Leopold, Bill Schorger, Francis Zirrer, Don Eckelberry, and Steve Betchkal, to name a few. And he gives us an introduction and insight into many museums in the east, Including the Field, and the curators that make them an easily usable resource for all conservationists, professional and amateur alike.

And I will find a local Christmas Count to join before next winter rolls around. I'll bet you will, too.

Pub Feb 1, 2017
University of Nebraska Press

[Clare O'Beara · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author, who vaguely liked birds and was about to start birdwatching, tells us that the common story runs; once there lived a bird, and the bird died out. Cue a look at the man-made sixth great extinction event.

I'm not convinced of the wisdom of an author who didn't know much about birds trying to sell readers on the tragedy and magnitude of slaughter behind extinct birds. He focuses solely on American birds, bar a glance at the dodo he spots in a museum. Mostly he tells us about the ivory-billed woodpecker, a victim first of logging then of shooting, and the passenger pigeon, a victim of mass murder for profit. The woodpecker was last definitely seen in the 1940s but there have been hopeful, wistful claims since. Other tiny animals and birds have been rediscovered, it's true, but not large birds, and there would be not enough genetic diversity from a single pair. The passenger pigeon famously numbered a billion or more and was wiped out in half a human lifetime, by men with guns, telegraphs and railroads. The author chases notes, books, paintings, symposiums and stuffed birds. We also see some Wisconsin birds, since that is where he lives, including the tale of a past pair of goshawks. Most of the birds described are in the past. Really, the book looks at the people who studied them or study them now. Past naturalists often liked to shoot a bird in order to study and paint it. Today we use strong binoculars.

Steve Betchkal curates a museum of dead and extinct birds. He's a lifelong birder and keeps copious, detailed notes of species, life lists and location lists. He assumed, like me, that the author who had come to interview him was also a bird watcher to some extent; but appears to have handled the truth kindly and given his time, taking the author on birding trips when they were lucky enough to see both golden and bald eagles as well as smaller birds. Steve tells us that when he has died, his yearly notes which show birds once common, now rare, will probably be binned. Please, tell this gentleman to give decipherable copies to a university. In Europe, so I presume in America too, one can download a phone app to share bird sightings and so build a citizen assisted database.

The author started sharing bird sightings with his young son, including owls. I agree we have to get young people interested in wildlife conservation as early and often as possible. One good way is by encouraging membership of Guides and Scouts. I doubt the passenger pigeon symposium he reports on would do the trick.

In tandem with this book I suggest reading a classic, 'On The Wing' by Alan Tennant who radio-tracked and flew after peregrine falcons as they migrated from one tip of the Americas to the other. Habitat loss, uncontrolled pesticide use and shooting are clearly flagged during these journeys. We also gain a tremendous understanding of the birds of prey from an expert.

I downloaded an ARC from Net Galley which contained no photos, and I suggest photos would improve the book. They may be planned for inclusion. In the sixteen pages of sources and accessed references, I counted eighteen names which I could be sure were female. This is an unbiased review.

[Hilary "Fox" · Rating 5 out of 5]

Who remembers the Lord God bird? Who has heard its kent call and its double-knock? Who remembers the dusky seaside sparrow? No one alive can still recall the passenger pigeon from life. Or the great auk. Or the infamous Dodo, only recently discovered to be a relative of the pigeon. The heath hen and the Labrador duck are likewise both beyond memory and reach.

There is a word for the last living member of a species. The last known in either captivity or in the wild, a lone survivor before its evolutionary line comes to its final unfortunate end. Endling. Martha the passenger pigeon was an endling. Benjamin the thylacine, who also signaled the end of the entire family of thylacinus. Lonesome George the pinta island tortoise. Sudan the last male Northern White Rhino as well. All endlings in their own fashion, as well as many more. Yet there was no name for the last known Ivory-billed Woodpecker, and yet still we see her in an artist's depiction. The last Imperial Woodpecker. Both close enough in living memory, and mourned.

Devastation by our own hand, and yet species still decline, marching ever closer. When do we learn? When does conservation become a habit and regular practice rather than something that raises eyebrows and is seen as extreme? Dominion over animals and the earth is more a message of stewardship than domination, isn't it? The human animal is still an animal, still in need of recognizing its place alongside the rest rather than above. Or if viewed as above, viewed with responsibility. To our home. To those who share it with us.

Flock Together is a love affair, but not simply with extinct birds. It's a love affair with the birds still with us, with nature, and with those gone. It's a lament for what was loss, but moreso, a wonder at what we once had and a message to protect others for the future. Isn't it a wonder that creatures who we lived alongside our children won't? And our children's children. The numbers dwindle, and often due to the paws of the house cat rather than by any other means.

There's so much we can do. There's so much we can learn.

What does it take to once more foster, in ourselves and everyone else, that childlike sense of wonder for the biodiversity of the world in which we live? After all, we care for something much more deeply once we know its name.

[Blue · Rating 3 out of 5]

Flock Together is B.J. Hollars' account of how he became enamored with birds and extinct birds, and became a birder himself. In this regard, the book provides ample material for the beginner birder with important American names in the conservation movement, local Wisconsin resources, a good bibliography, as well as many stories of the anxieties and insecurities of a beginner birder.

The scope of the book is regional, rarely reaching national (with mentions of national, if not international icons in conservation history, such as Aldo Leopold). This is not a huge problem, though, as Wisconsin does have a lot to offer in terms of bird diversity and habitat and a slew of experts, museums, collections, and legends like the aforementioned Aldo Leopold.

Mostly, Hollars is obsessed not only with his new-found hobby of watching birds, but also with the long-term, mostly epistolary relationship of two men, one a hermit citizen scientist named Ziller and the other, one of Leopold's students, a passenger pigeon expert, called Schroger. A substantial part of the book is spent discussing their relationship and correspondence, tracking down the goshawk Ziller shot and gifted Schroger, tracking down Ziller's hut in the wilderness... In a longer book, this relationship certainly offers a unique opportunity to understand not only bird conservation and environmentalism in America, but also the scholars and citizens who were/are dedicated to birds, as well as the changes in attitude towards nature and wildlife from shoot-and-study to list-and-count. However, in such a short book, the relationship perhaps takes too much space. Still, the author's own enthusiasm about the lives of the two men is captivating. And that Hollars brings lost names like Ziller to the forefront is valuable.

There is, though, one thing that would improve the book immensely: at times, details that do not pertain at all to the subject matter are included in ways that don't really add anything, not even respite to collect thoughts, for example what the author and his companions ordered to eat somewhere. At other times, conversations are rendered in dialog format without, it seems, any stylized shortening to get to the gist, which serves no purpose other than take up space.

Instead, some other things could have been explored, such as the greater history of conservation in the US, or the relationship of American birding to, say, the practice in the UK (for, Americans did not invent birding, hunting, etc.) There is certainly a big cultural difference: where Hollars experiences almost all his birding by driving around in big, gas-guzzling cars, the serious British birders take a less intrusive approach (perhaps also aided by the fact that the public paths allow anyone to walk through anyone else's land...)

Overall, Flock Together is a well written book about the beginnings of one man's interest in birds and their habitats. It is difficult to see where it would fit, though: the amateur birder can certainly benefit from a good guide and how-to book more, and those seeking information about conservation of birds (or extinction of birds, for that matter) could benefit more from book like Rare Bird by Maria Mudd Ruth that focus on one story, one bird, and examine nearly all the players that make that story complete.

Recommended to those who like woodpeckers, auks, goshawks, Sesame Street, and rabbits.

Thanks to NetGalley and University of Nebraska Press for a free digital copy of the book in exchange of my review.

[Dawn · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a huge bird enthusiast, I was beyond happy to start this book. I wanted to know about birds gone by - not knowing what this information would present.

It presented me with a mystery instead of a closed case where the Ivory Billed Woodpecker was concerned. The WHAT? I'd never heard of this bird. It sent me immediately to Google. I needed to see what this Ivory Billed Woodpecker looks like. I have been birding only for a few years and am a weekend volunteer at an Audubon chapter. I make up plates for birds, administer medicines to the injured, hand feed the babies and oh yeah, clean up their cages (Ravens are not very neat by the way). BJ Hollars' enthusiasm for tracking the ghost of the Ivory Billed piqued my own curiosity.

Here is the thing - it's not a bird that someone drew a picture of a long time ago. It's a bird that we have photos of - alive. Sure, there are probably photos of a number of extinct birds, but this seems just minutes from the assumed loss. It seems that the Ivory Billed has been last seen in the late 1960s.....however - it also seems like it can be easily confused by any untrained eye to be a Pileated Woodpecker instead. THIS makes it even more exciting. The photos that Hollars describes - and that I found online - are of a curious little soul, who has landed on a human - and hangs out for a bit. Could we possibly still have this bird, believed to be likely extinct, here with us, incognito? Living off the good fortune to be passed off as someone else and left alone?

We follow Hollars through various paths as he traces physical history in order to get as close to that one degree to the Ivory Billed as he can. Unfortunately the best he can do is to have a chance to hold a preserved one from long ago. I shared the awe and joy it must have been to finally lay eyes on this creature that seems so full of myth. The privilege of handling energy of the Ivory Billed. Granted it is deceased, but any object still carries an energy. To connect to that energy, even on the thinnest veil of possibility, must have been quite a moment indeed.

The author touches subjects that pave the way for further thinking - the birds of today. Our own morality. Surely some birds would naturally become extinct. But as he notes, humans have hastened the process in rewards for short term profit and for reasons of a tasty pie. I am grateful for those who find the obsession and beauty still in the natural world. Those who can light more torches with their own flame to inspire many more to the cause.

[Mollie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading nonfiction is often an opportunity to demonstrate my ability to persevere...or to put it differently, to read while yawning.

Because of that, I hid this book at the back of my to-be-read list. But it did not go extinct and so, on a rainy day I succumbed.

Like the author, who prior to embarking on his research, did not notice the bird life around him, I had missed reading a remarkable book.

As a beginning birder myself, I identified with his journey...the frustration of being profoundly uniformed offset by the joy of actually seeing and learning about birds. In the end, becoming captivated by wild creatures.

The sorrow born of the death of species is very real as he recounts his journey. It seemed to me that he neared the edge but did not topple over it...and thus escaped the trap of being preachy or blaming. But the impact of extinctions was clear.

The autobiography of a young birder, the biographies of men influential in the ecology movement and the stories of extinct birds join in a masterful and heartfelt book.

I gladly join the author's flock.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hollars' newest collection of essays focuses on his personal exploration of extinct birds in America. He weaves the history of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker (its demise, its assumed extinction status and possible rediscovery, and then its role as a product of wishful thinking), with other essays about our love affairs with birds. His main message: "There once was a bird and then that bird died" resurfaces again and again in his collection. I can't say that I enjoyed this collection as much as his first collection, This is Only a Test, only because I think that his audience is very different for Flock Together. I am a bird watcher, so I liked this book, but I'm not sure if it would reach a general audience. The writing, also, is more traditionally narrative; whereas, in his first collection, he takes on different forms of essay writing. Still, a solid collection.

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author became fascinated with birds when there was a possible rediscovery of the ivory-billed woodpecker. It was thought extinct due to hunting. Through interviews with bird experts (ornithologists) and books on this woodpecker he became fascinated with Nort American birds especially the ones that are extinct. He examined the early methods that were used to study birds. He describes the birds and their environments. He includes historical research in each chapter. I found myself worrying about birds that are still alive but on the endangered list. This is an excellent memoir on his quest to know living birds through his study of extinct birds.

Disclaimer: I received an arc of this book free from the author/publisher from Net-galley. I was not obliged to write a favorable review, or even any review at all. The opinions expressed are strictly my own.

[Kevin Parsons · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well written and enjoyable account of a man who discovers a love of birds - both living and those now extinct. Thoughtful and interesting throughout.

[Noah Letner · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great read!
Bird lovers read this book. If you have ever lived in Wisconsin, read this book. Marvelous. Fun.
The author has a great style. I truly enjoyed this read.
Lord God Bird!

[Kristin · Rating 2 out of 5]

I enjoy reading local authors so I was excited to find this book at the library, knowing Hollars is just across the state from me. As a birdwatcher, I was looking forward to this book but I have a couple of gripes.
First of all, I would not subtitle this "A Love Affair with Extinct Birds." It was more like "A New Birder Takes a Special Interest in the Ivory Billed Woodpecker." Which isn't a bad thing, but just not what I expected. I guess I was hoping for something similar to The Lost Bird Project in book form, but again, this was more my fault than the author's.
Here is what really set the tone for me, however: in the prologue, the authors lists several male ornithologists and authors who inspired him, then lists two token women and writes this: "...women's contributions are undoubtedly noteworthy, and their stories deserve their own book. However, I found myself gravitating more toward the stories of men..." It was so jarring to me and it put a bad taste in my mouth. I don't think it was necessary for the author to include those statements, but since he did, I wish he had explored a bit more WHY he was drawn to the "stories of men." And beyond that, it would have been nice for the author to consider why are there more men's stories for him to explore!
Because that came so early in the book, it was difficult for me to put it out of my head as I read. I don't like that I let a couple of seemingly throwaway sentences possibly ruin a book for me, but unfortunately, I think it did.

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

This review originally published in Looking For a Good Book. Rated 3.0 of 5

As the son and brother of avid bird watchers and a weekend watcher myself, this sounded like a really interesting book. A variation on the bird-watching theme ... a search for ... or a 'love affair with' extinct birds sounded like a really fascinating take on the bird-watching craze. The appeal is part bird-watching, of course, but there's also the historical and paleonotological aspects.

Author Hollars does a nice job of bringing the extinct birds to life (so to speak), but rather than a love affair with extinct birds, as the sub-title states, Hollars focuses in on just a couple and really, he might have made a better case for a book about his obsession with the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker.

But one thing that we don't really get is why Hollars has developed this fascination. He admits at the very beginning that he's not a bird watcher. This is disappointing because we've been led to think we're getting a story from a bird watcher with words such as 'flock together,' 'love affair,' and 'birds' in the title. But the key word is 'extinct.'

It seems like we shouldn't dislike the book for what it's not, but for the millions of people who enjoy bird-watching, and hence preserving the existing birds for future generations to enjoy, a tale about the extinction of specific species ... from someone who hasn't developed the same appreciation for the living birds ... feels so hypocritical. What experiences have you had that suggest you can now lecture to those who have spent years tracking and searching and enjoying rare birds?

When Hollars decides to focus on his obsession with the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker the book becomes clearer and the bird watchers who are reading can begin to understand and see the change in a non-bird-watcher to becoming a fan of birds. It's a different path than most take, but the similarities are there.

Hollars writes, when he finally holds a stuffed Ivory-Billed from a museum of natural history:

Holding that bird, I’m faced with a complicated feeling—part joy, part grief, part something bordering on the sublime. And it’s my inability to give it a proper name that makes the emotion even more powerful. This is my moment of quiet reckoning, my real-life anagnorisis.

I’m in love with a bird, I realize as the camera clicks. But I’m also mourning the bird that I love.

And this isn’t just any bird, mind you, but a bird—like so many others—with a backstory. According to the tag wrapped round his leg, this particular specimen was killed on March 13, 1883 near the Wekiva River in central Florida.*

And this, is what Hollars has been leading us to. That moment of discovery that there is something special about birds. For Hollars it comes with a bird that it is extinct. For others it might come with the first time they see an Oriole, or the Calliope Hummingbird or some exotic, lost traveler. But every birder recognizes the moment.

And while there was a fair amount that was interesting here, the over-all impact of this book doesn't live up to what the title and synopsis suggest.

Looking for a good book? Flock Together by B. J. Hollars wants to be a about a love affair with extinct birds, but it doesn't quite manage to get there, though moments of the book shine brightly.

I received a digital copy of this book from the publisher, through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

*Quote taken from an advance reader copy and may not reflect the final, printed book.

[Deb Montague · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't remember why I added this book to my TBR pile. I think the idea of someone discussing extinct birds and ruminating on conservation was attractive. I think I also thought it would be a "light" read; one which wouldn't shove more ideas into my overloaded head. That was before I sat down to read it.
I have learned several things. Presented in no particular order. 1-There is a monument to the passenger pigeon in Wyalusing State Park. I know where this is although I haven't been there in at least 6 years.
2 - The Mississippi River was, at the turn of the last century, a fly-way for passenger pigeons. They summered in Wisconsin and flew south, along the river, in the fall. Hence, this is why there is a monument to them in Wyalusing State Park.
3 - One of the men who is the mentor for the author went to the University of Wisconsin-LaCrosse at the same time I was at Viterbo in LaCrosse. Our paths never would have crossed, but it's weird knowing this.
4 - I knew of 90% of the places the author mentioned; including the museums; although I admit to not having been to any except the Field Museum. I have been on the third floor of The Field and have seen some of their storage facilities. Impressive doesn't quite cover it.
5 - Two new words: Endling and Anagnorisis. I don't know that I'll use them in sentences, but the first has the screenwriter in me wondering what the story would be about in a script entitled "Endling."
This is a marvelous book. That it comes from an area with which I have familiarity made it more special. I enjoyed how the author unfolded his growing love of birds and birding in general. I enjoyed how he wove this growing infatuation with musings on how humans have exterminated birds along the way. The middle, with the illustrations and the two pictures, was just enough. He didn't have to include images, but they were the sprinkles on a delightful story.
I remember the breathless announcement about perhaps finding a lone Ivory-Billed Woodpecker in Arkansas. I think we all wanted to believe and I liked how the author dived into that controversy. I very much appreciated his musings on extinction. It's not just birds. It's microbes, insects, mammals.
I liked this book a lot. I will recommend it to others.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had the pleasure of meeting the author at his talk at the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum in Wausau, WI, last month. This is truly one of the best natural history memoirs I've ever read. From Hollar's perspective as a novice birder he manages to penetrate the "secret" of birding, or more accurately the secret of why we care. He pays homage not only to dearly departed species (especially the ivory-billed woodpecker), but also to the naturalists who studied them. His self-effacing and often humorous style only serves to accentuate a story of personal growth. Having travelled a similar path, I felt at times as if this book was written just for me.

[Stuart Allison · Rating 4 out of 5]

I knew BJ when he was a student at Knox College and have kept in touch with him ever since. So perhaps I am biased, but I think he is an insightful, empathetic writer. He begins the path that leads to Flock Together when he hears about potential recent sightings of the Ivory-billed woodpecker. All he knew about the bird was that it was big and spectacular and supposedly extinct. He then goes on a quest to learn as much as he can about the Ivory-billed WP and what led to its demise and the loss of other birds like the passenger pigeon. The book is full of bird lore - especially from Wisconsin - and is a thoughtful exploration of how we treat the world around us. Recommended.

[Rachel Farrell · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Once upon a time there lived a bird and then that bird stopped living.” So begins the opening chapter of B.J. Hollars’s FLOCK TOGETHER: A LOVE AFFAIR WITH EXTINCT BIRDS, a work that examines vanished North American species and asks why certain ones—particularly groups that have managed to thrive so vibrantly on film—have not been able to flourish in life...

My review/interview for MQR: https://sites.lsa.umich.edu/mqr/2016/...

[Lauren Carter · Rating 3 out of 5]

It took me 4 years to finish a 177 page book... It keeps taking turns into religion and the people that read the book are knowledgeable about birds but then lacks depth...

[Teresa · Rating 3 out of 5]

Flock Together had its charms- there's some good reflection on extinction in our world here though wrapped up in an anxiety. The imposter syndrome was a bit strong for someone writing a memoir but I found all the information interesting.

[Sheila MacKenzie · Rating 3 out of 5]

A love letter to birds and bird watching. The author takes us on his personal journey on becoming a birder.
There's something so regal about anyone who embraces their inner geek. Birders excel at this. We can go on for hours about the birds we've observed and our "lifers". Always willing to listen to someone else's love affair about a specific bird.
I enjoyed this book but felt the self deprecation was quite annoying at times.

[Harriet Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

While I'm not a birder, I found this account of a birder's ongoing quest to be quite interesting and enlightening.

[kirsten · Rating 5 out of 5]

Here's to hoping my spark bird (i.e., great tailed grackle) doesn't get included in the next edition. Unlikely, yes, but see the legend of the passenger pigeon.