A coiled giant anaconda. They are the largest snake species in Brazil and play a major role in legends including the ‘Boiuna’ and the ‘Cobra Grande.’ CREDIT: Beatriz Cosendey. Get the Popular Science daily newsletter💡 Breakthroughs, discoveries, and DIY tips sent every weekday. South America’s lush Amazon region is a biodiversity hotspot, which means that every living thing must find a way to co-exist. Even some of the most feared snakes on the planet–anacondas. In a paper published June 16 in the journal Frontiers in Amphibian and Reptile Science, conservation biologists Beatriz Cosendey and Juarez Carlos Brito Pezzuti from the Federal University of Pará’s Center for Amazonian Studies in Brazil, analyze the key points behind the interactions between humans and the local anaconda populations. Ahead of the paper’s publication, the team at Frontiers conducted this wide-ranging Q&A with Conesday. It has not been altered. Frontiers: What inspired you to become a researcher? Beatriz Cosendey: As a child, I was fascinated by reports and documentaries about field research and often wondered what it took to be there and what kind of knowledge was being produced. Later, as an ecologist, I felt the need for approaches that better connected scientific research with real-world contexts. I became especially interested in perspectives that viewed humans not as separate from nature, but as part of ecological systems. This led me to explore integrative methods that incorporate local and traditional knowledge, aiming to make research more relevant and accessible to the communities involved. F: Can you tell us about the research you’re currently working on? BC: My research focuses on ethnobiology, an interdisciplinary field intersecting ecology, conservation, and traditional knowledge. We investigate not only the biodiversity of an area but also the relationship local communities have with surrounding species, providing a better understanding of local dynamics and areas needing special attention for conservation. After all, no one knows a place better than those who have lived there for generations. This deep familiarity allows for early detection of changes or environmental shifts. Additionally, developing a collaborative project with residents generates greater engagement, as they recognize themselves as active contributors; and collective participation is essential for effective conservation. Local boating the Amazon River. CREDIT: Beatriz Cosendey. F: Could you tell us about one of the legends surrounding anacondas? BC: One of the greatest myths is about the Great Snake—a huge snake that is said to inhabit the Amazon River and sleep beneath the town. According to the dwellers, the Great Snake is an anaconda that has grown too large; its movements can shake the river’s waters, and its eyes look like fire in the darkness of night. People say anacondas can grow so big that they can swallow large animals—including humans or cattle—without difficulty. F: What could be the reasons why the traditional role of anacondas as a spiritual and mythological entity has changed? Do you think the fact that fewer anacondas have been seen in recent years contributes to their diminished importance as an mythological entity? BC: Not exactly. I believe the two are related, but not in a direct way. The mythology still exists, but among Aritapera dwellers, there’s a more practical, everyday concern—mainly the fear of losing their chickens. As a result, anacondas have come to be seen as stealthy thieves. These traits are mostly associated with smaller individuals (up to around 2–2.5 meters), while the larger ones—which may still carry the symbolic weight of the ‘Great Snake’—tend to retreat to more sheltered areas; because of the presence of houses, motorized boats, and general noise, they are now seen much less frequently. A giant anaconda is being measured. Credit: Pedro Calazans. F: Can you share some of the quotes you’ve collected in interviews that show the attitude of community members towards anacondas? How do chickens come into play? BC: When talking about anacondas, one thing always comes up: chickens. “Chicken is her [the anaconda’s] favorite dish. If one clucks, she comes,” said one dweller. This kind of remark helps explain why the conflict is often framed in economic terms. During the interviews and conversations with local dwellers, many emphasized the financial impact of losing their animals: “The biggest loss is that they keep taking chicks and chickens…” or “You raise the chicken—you can’t just let it be eaten for free, right?” For them, it’s a loss of investment, especially since corn, which is used as chicken feed, is expensive. As one person put it: “We spend time feeding and raising the birds, and then the snake comes and takes them.” One dweller shared that, in an attempt to prevent another loss, he killed the anaconda and removed the last chicken it had swallowed from its belly—”it was still fresh,” he said—and used it for his meal, cooking the chicken for lunch so it wouldn’t go to waste. One of the Amazonas communities where the researchers conducted their research. CREDIT: Beatriz Cosendey. Some interviewees reported that they had to rebuild their chicken coops and pigsties because too many anacondas were getting in. Participants would point out where the anaconda had entered and explained that they came in through gaps or cracks but couldn’t get out afterwards because they ‘tufavam’ — a local term referring to the snake’s body swelling after ingesting prey. We saw chicken coops made with mesh, with nylon, some that worked and some that didn’t. Guided by the locals’ insights, we concluded that the best solution to compensate for the gaps between the wooden slats is to line the coop with a fine nylon mesh (to block smaller animals), and on the outside, a layer of wire mesh, which protects the inner mesh and prevents the entry of larger animals. F: Are there any common misconceptions about this area of research? How would you address them? BC: Yes, very much. Although ethnobiology is an old science, it’s still underexplored and often misunderstood. In some fields, there are ongoing debates about the robustness and scientific validity of the field and related areas. This is largely because the findings don’t always rely only on hard statistical data. However, like any other scientific field, it follows standardized methodologies, and no result is accepted without proper grounding. What happens is that ethnobiology leans more toward the human sciences, placing human beings and traditional knowledge as key variables within its framework. To address these misconceptions, I believe it’s important to emphasize that ethnobiology produces solid and relevant knowledge—especially in the context of conservation and sustainable development. It offers insights that purely biological approaches might overlook and helps build bridges between science and society. The study focused on the várzea regions of the Lower Amazon River. CREDIT: Beatriz Cosendey. F: What are some of the areas of research you’d like to see tackled in the years ahead? BC: I’d like to see more conservation projects that include local communities as active participants rather than as passive observers. Incorporating their voices, perspectives, and needs not only makes initiatives more effective, but also more just. There is also great potential in recognizing and valuing traditional knowledge. Beyond its cultural significance, certain practices—such as the use of natural compounds—could become practical assets for other vulnerable regions. Once properly documented and understood, many of these approaches offer adaptable forms of environmental management and could help inform broader conservation strategies elsewhere. F: How has open science benefited the reach and impact of your research? BC: Open science is crucial for making research more accessible. By eliminating access barriers, it facilitates a broader exchange of knowledge—important especially for interdisciplinary research like mine which draws on multiple knowledge systems and gains value when shared widely. For scientific work, it ensures that knowledge reaches a wider audience, including practitioners and policymakers. This openness fosters dialogue across different sectors, making research more inclusive and encouraging greater collaboration among diverse groups. The Q&A can also be read here.

Late last month, some 14,000 baby chicks in Pennsylvania were shipped from a hatchery — commercial operations that breed chickens, incubate their eggs, and sell day-old chicks — to small farms across the country. But they didn’t get far. They were reportedly abandoned in a US Postal Service truck in Delaware for three-and-a-half days without water, food, or temperature control.By the time officials arrived at the postal facility, 4,000 baby birds were already dead. The thousands of survivors — mostly chickens, but also some turkeys and quails — were taken to Delaware’s First State Animal Center and SPCA, which worked tirelessly to find homes to take in the animals as pets.The incident has received extensive national news coverage, and it highlights an often hidden aspect of America’s network of small poultry farms and backyard chicken operations: the shipping of millions of live baby animals in the mail to be raised for eggs or meat.Most chicks survive their journey through the mail, but many don’t. In 2020, 4,800 chicks shipped to farmers in Maine perished due to postal service delays, while in 2022, almost 4,000 chicks destined for the Bahamas died on the tarmac at Miami International Airport from heat exposure. There are plenty of other stories of chicks dying in the mail, and backyard chicken enthusiasts say it’s not uncommon for a few birds out of every 50 or so that they order from hatcheries to die in the mail or shortly after arriving. Mass-casualty mail-order events are rare, but when they happen, they tend to receive news attention. It’s a weird-sounding story with aggrieved customers and sometimes, a hopeful outcome, like the thousands of rescued birds in Delaware. But many more farmed animals die in transportation than most of us realize. That’s because these animals — whether raised by backyard poultry enthusiasts or major meat-producing conglomerates — are commodities, and their deaths merely a margin of error baked into the economics of the annual hatching, raising, and slaughtering of billions of chickens for food. What happens between the factory farm and the slaughterhouseAnimals raised for food are often transported numerous times throughout their lives, and they’re typically treated like cargo rather than living, feeling animals. Sometimes, it’s boxes of day-old chicks shipped through the USPS from a small hatchery to a small farm. But more often, it’s truckloads of fattened-up chickens or pigs moved from a factory farm to a massive slaughterhouse.More than 9 billion chickens raised for meat annually in the US are kept on factory farms — long, windowless buildings that look more like industrial warehouses than farms. The birds have been bred to grow enormous, which causes a number of health problems, and in these overcrowded facilities, disease spreads quickly. The conditions are so awful that up to 6 percent die before they can even be trucked to the slaughterhouse. That’s over half a billion animals each year.Once the survivors reach about 6.5 pounds, they’re quickly and tightly packed into crates. Those crates are then stacked one atop another onto a truck bound for the slaughterhouse. They’re still babies, at just 47 days old, but 6.5 pounds is their average “market weight.”Chickens packed into crates bound for the slaughterhouse. Jo-Anne McArthur/We AnimalsMost chicken farms are located close to a slaughterhouse, so the trip isn’t too long — often 60 miles or less, according to the National Chicken Council. But “even if it is a short journey, the weather and the stocking density has a huge effect on mortality,” Adrienne Craig, an attorney at the Animal Welfare Institute, a nonprofit that advocates for more humane conditions in animal transport, told me. “They could be transported for 45 minutes and if it’s 110 degrees,” a lot of chickens could die. They can also become stressed and physically aggressive toward one another when packed so tightly. The US poultry industry doesn’t publish statistics on how many animals die in transport — what they call “DOAs” (dead on arrival). In the early 2000s, according to the data analytics firm Agri Stats, Inc., the DOA rate was around 0.36 percent. Assuming this hasn’t changed much (a reasonable assumption, as it’s not so different from DOA rates in many European countries), around 33.8 million chickens in the US died in transport in 2024, or 92,602 every day. (The National Chicken Council didn’t immediately respond to a request for industry DOA figures.)To put that into context, around 33 million cattle are slaughtered for beef each year in the US. In a 2023 report, the Animal Welfare Institute published a report that details a number of mass-death events in chicken transport. Here are just a few:In 2018, 34,050 chickens died in transport to a Pilgrim’s Pride slaughterhouse from severe cold and wind. (Pilgrim’s Pride happened to be the top donor to President Donald Trump’s second inauguration.)In 2020, more than 9,000 birds raised for Butterfield Foods died after being held overnight in unheated transport trailers when the temperature fell to minus 17 degrees Fahrenheit.In 2022, a transport truck carrying birds for Lincoln Premium Poultry — Costco’s in-house chicken production company — caught fire and 1,000 birds were burned alive, while an additional 1,500 were injured and euthanized.The DOA rate is even higher for pigs, with about a million every year either dead on arrival at the slaughterhouse, unable to move or keep up with other pigs after unloading, or in such a terrible state that they must be euthanized on arrival. Blood is seen on a truck bringing pigs to the Farmer John slaughterhouse in Vernon, California. David McNew/Getty ImagesAnimal rights activists give water to pigs arriving by truck to the Farmer John slaughterhouse in Vernon, California. David McNew/Getty ImagesSimilar to poultry birds, pigs and cattle are subject to extreme temperatures, but they’re often transported much further distances. And a typical beef or dairy cow is shipped multiple times to different farms, and often across state lines — not just the trip from the farm to the slaughterhouse. These long distances mean the animals are living in one another’s urine and feces while on the truck, and, according to Craig, they can experience bruising when jostled around as truckers navigate curves and bumpy roads.Animals have no federal protections in transportation trips under 28 hours, and the federal Twenty-Eight Hour Law, intended to reduce their suffering on those longer journeys, is poorly — and rarely — enforced. The law also excludes poultry birds — the vast majority of animals raised for meat. The average consumer, if they think about farm animal suffering at all, may only think about it in the context of factory farms or slaughterhouses. But the factory farm production chain is incredibly complex, and at each step, animals have little to no protections. That leads to tens of millions of animals dying painful deaths each year in transport alone, and virtually no companies are ever held accountable. These deaths are just as tragic as the thousands who died in the recent USPS incident, and they are just as preventable. The meat industry could choose to pack fewer animals into each truck, require heating and cooling during transport, and give animals ample time for rest, water, and food on long journeys. But such modest measures would cut into their margins, and if there’s one thing that should be understood about almost every major US meat company, it’s this: They will always cut corners on animal welfare to increase profit unless they’re legally required to change. 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When a mother is pregnant, it’s normal—dare we say expected—for her partner to make sure she is taken care of. Hornbills, however, take these great expectations to a whole new level. Hornbills are colorful birds with large beaks native to Africa and Southeast Asia. They usually mate for life, Emily Bridges, Senior Bird Care Specialist at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens, tells Popular Science, and have an incredibly unique nesting process.  Hornbill pairs start by identifying a tree cavity to their liking. They will then modify it by digging or adding material. It turns out they can be quite picky about what goes in their nests. At the Jacksonville Zoo, employees put pine shavings and tree bark in a tree cavity for hornbill mates named Humphrey and Bacall, “which they did not care for and threw most of it out,” Bridges admitted. “The preference for nesting materials varies from each pair and each species.”  Hornbills then start “walling,” or closing the tree cavity’s opening with materials such as soft fruit, feces, mud, and woodchips, and the female hornbill tucked inside. The birds leave a small opening in the seal through which the male can feed the female while she lays eggs and raises their chicks. Interestingly, females also poop out of the slit to keep the nest nice and clean. According to Bridges, hornbills are the only known bird species that nest in this way. [ Related: Bittersweet fledge watch begins for bald eagles Sunny and Gizmo. ] Bacall is currently sealed in, and you can check on her progress through a livecam. If her eggs hatch, she will care for the chick or chicks within the nest for somewhere between 111 to 137 days. After that nesting period, the adult birds will break the seal and continue raising their young together.   The pair (whose names are a call back to one of old Hollywood’s most prolific couples) became mates after Humphrey arrived at Jacksonville Zoo in January. The zoo staff undertook quite the matchmaking efforts. Initially, “we introduced Humphrey and Bacall through side-by-side enclosures so that they could see and hear each other,” says Bridges.  When the birds started demonstrating behaviors indicating that they liked each other, such as sitting next to each other for a long time, sharing food, and dual calling, “we introduced them together in a shared space under close monitoring at increasingly longer periods of time over a few weeks,” she adds. “We are lucky that these two seemed to be compatible quickly, as hornbills can take years to bond enough to want to nest together.” Here’s to hoping Bacall and Humphrey soon become parents!  The post Male hornbills are at their mates’ every beck and call appeared first on Popular Science.

First determine if the baby bird is a nestling or fledgling.   Image: jennifer m. ramos / Getty Images Get the Popular Science daily newsletter💡 Breakthroughs, discoveries, and DIY tips sent every weekday. The arrival of spring brings many changes to our natural surroundings. Flowers bloom, barren trees fill with leaves, and occasionally, baby birds come tumbling out of those trees. If you’ve ever encountered one of these not-quite-flighted chicks and wondered how best to look after them, you’ve come to the right place.  Your first aim upon finding a chick out of its nest is to work out whether it has accidentally fallen or is simply taking its first steps out of the nest. Siân Denney, who has had six years of wildlife experience for the Royal Society of the Protection of Birds, says you should determine if the bird is a nestling or fledgling. “Nestlings are the tiny, tiny babies with no feathers, and they’re at very early stages and very vulnerable,” says Denney. In contrast, fledglings have feathers but may lack the flight feathers needed to take to the skies.  Helping a nestling If the bird you’ve found is a featherless nestling, it will be at risk if left out of the nest. “The amount of care that birds require is intense. It is unlikely that a very young bird that age that’s got no feathers will survive if it is out of the nest,” says George Bradley, who works for wildlife charity SongBird Survival. If you know which nest the bird has fallen from you should place it back in. Denney and Bradley advise that gloves should be worn for handling birds as a hygiene measure. Some people believe that if a well-meaning human handles a bird, its parents will cease to recognize its scent and reject it. This is a myth, says Denney. “Birds actually have a terrible sense of smell,” she says.  Garden bird species will usually make their nests in hedges or trees. However, other species, like gulls or sparrows, make their homes on rooftops or the underside of eaves. By watching to see if its parents appear to try to help it, you may be able to work out where its nest is hidden and whether it is accessible. If you can’t identify which nest a nestling has fallen from, it will still need to be moved off the ground, where it will be helpless against predators. The best option is to elevate the nestling. Placing them in a bucket or empty flower pot can protect them while still making it easy for their parents to find them.  Fledging is a part of bird life. Image: Getty Images Joni Eskridge Helping a fledgling Denney has different advice if the bird you come across is a feathered fledgling. “They should just be left alone,” she says. “They’ve attempted to leave the nest because they’re ready to take to life outside and beyond,” she adds. Their parents will likely be surreptitiously monitoring them to check they have learned how to fly independently. Denney adds that fledglings can spend days or weeks on their ground as they learn to fly. If the bird is in obvious and immediate danger—your local cat is eyeing it up, for example—it can also be shooed somewhere more secure, like a bush or tree.  How to help an injured bird If a fallen bird is injured, it might be time to contact a local wildlife rehabilitator. These are experts who volunteer to care for sick or injured birds. These resources will vary by state. Humane World for Animals has a detailed list of rescuers and rehabilitators.  The overarching message is that baby birds eventually need to fly from their nest, and unless they are too young or in danger, leaving them alone to learn how to navigate the big, new world they find themselves in is the best course of action.  Humans can also proactively help by avoiding activities that put baby birds at risk of falling in the first place. Denney says that cutting trees or hedges aggressively or without checking for any nesting birds during the summer months can lead to disturbed or destroyed nests. Before you cut, says Denney, “check the area first for a couple of days. If you see signs of activity, it’s best just to postpone that cutting to let those birds nest in peace.”

It’s almost time for two young birds who have captivated the internet around the world to leave the nest. According to Friends of Big Bear Valley (FOBBV), Fledge Watch for eaglets Sunny and Gizmo officially kicks off today.  Young eagles like Sunny and Gizmo typically fledge–or leave the nest and fly–when they can flatten their wings and have feathers capable of flight. This typically occurs when the birds hit 10 to 14 weeks of age. Males also tend to take their first flight a little sooner than females. Over the past several weeks, Sunny and Gizmo have made major progress towards this goal. They can feed themselves and even spent their first night alone on the nest on May 8. They’ve also been flapping vigorously to build up their strength to take to the skies. Sunny has even started hopping up onto the edges of the nest, in what looks to be preparation for flight. This week’s Fledge Watch is expected to be similar to Pip Watch from early March. However, the fledge window is wide and could take until mid-June. A previous eaglet named Simba took a full 16 weeks to fledge. “When they feel confident enough, you know, we don’t know whether they’ll go together or separately, but each one will just decide it’s ready,” FOBBV Executive Director Sandy Steers told LAist. “They may come back to the nest, you know, now and then, but they just fly for the first time and it’s beautiful.” It might take the pair  a little while to get their wing strength up to fly back up to the 145-feet high nest. However, they are expected to stick around the Big Bear Lake for at least three months and follow their parents while they learn to fish and hunt. According to FOBBV, fledglings from Southern California have been spotted as far south as Baja California, as far north as British Columbia, and as far east as Yellowstone National Park. About 70 percent of bald eagles survive the fledgling stage. Getting hit by cars when they are scavenging on roadkill. flying into power lines, or lead poisoning from eating something that has been shot are their biggest threats during this time. Two monitored chicks–Simba and Stormy–were both found dead only after fledging.  Tens of thousands of viewers have been following their journey via a 24-hour livecam, and it has been an emotional rollercoaster. After three eggs failed to hatch in 2024, three eggs appeared in the nest earlier this year. Chick 1 hatched late on March 3, followed by Chick 2 early on March 4, and Chick 3 hatched on March 8. On the evening of March 13, a snowstorm hit the area, dumping up to two feet of snow and pummeling the nest with strong winds. On the morning of March 14, only two of the chicks were visible on the live cam. FOBBV later confirmed the passing of one of the chicks. [ Related: Jackie and Shadow’s eaglets officially named: Meet Sunny and Gizmo. ] FOBBV believes that Chick 1 died based on foot size and the amount of thermal down feathers on the other two eaglets. The deceased chick has since been named Misty in honor of Kathi Misterly, an FOBBV volunteer who passed away after a battle with cancer. A group of students from a local elementary school voted on the names Sunny and Gizmo in early April. As of now, their bones are almost fully grown. They’re estimated to be about 3 feet tall at this stage, closer to dad Shadow’s height. As with most female eagles, Jackie is larger.  While the sex of the eaglets is not yet determine–and they look a lot alike–there are some slight differences on their heads and tails.  CREDIT: Friends of Big Bear Valley. Sunny is the older eaglet and has a longer tail. The first bits of white on Sunny’s tail feathers are also starting to show. As for Gizmo, the corner of this eaglet’s mouth is more orange than Sunny’s. Gizmo also sports a thicker lower lip. FOBBV says that this gives Gizmo a “Mona Lisa smile.” The post Bittersweet fledge watch begins for bald eagles Sunny and Gizmo appeared first on Popular Science.