It's a little bit like when a distant cousin shows up on your doorstep, unannounced. You may not have spoken to him in years -- not so much as a single phone call or e-mail -- yet there he is, suitcase in hand, expecting you to roll out the red carpet for an extended stay.

Then, after a week or so, you wake up and he's left quietly in the middle of the night without so much as a warning. Boy, you sure had a heck of a time catching up while he was visiting, but as out of the blue as his arrival may have been, so, too, was his departure.

Yeah, it's kind of like that.

Bird irruptions, generally speaking, take place frequently enough that they are not considered rare happenings in the bird world. But an irruption in and of itself is rare -- occurring when a species of bird suddenly shows up someplace its not usually found, for a period of days or weeks or even months.

This winter in central Maine, the irruptions have been especially baffling. An irruption of Common Redpolls, or Bohemian Waxwings, or Pine Grosbeaks are just that -- irruptions. They happen for rhyme or reason that most casual bird observers will never figure out. This season, all three have been in Maine at once, and in numbers counting into the thousands, numbers not seen in many decades here.

And that's what's got Jeff Wells, with a Ph.D. in ornithology from Cornell University, so excited.

"It's extremely rare," Wells says, surmising that this winter's cameo appearance here in Maine could be the result of a spectacular breeding season last year in Canada's Boreal Forest -- the usual home for each of the three species. It could also be the result of a food shortage last fall, one that forced the birds to move southeast in search of more nutrition.

"I suspect it's the result of both," said Wells, 44.

Wells, however, isn't content to stop there. A conservationist by trade, Wells wants to know what things are changing in Canada's midsection -- in the 1.3 billion acres that comprises the Boreal Forest and provides habitat for nearly 50 percent of North America's birds -- that will effect those species both this year and a decade from now.

A Bangor native now living in Gardiner, Wells thinks birders want to know, too. And that why he's written book for birders.

"My major impetus in writing the book was the apparent paradox that's out there," said Wells, the senior scientist for the International Boreal Conservation Campaign, an organization based in Seattle. "More and more people are interested in birds -- up to 80 million Americans have some interest in birds, in their backyard or at beaches or wherever -- yet I kept seeing reports of more and more birds declining (in numbers).

"I started thinking, 'If so many people are interested, why doesn't that translate into more birds doing better?' It's important to let people know how what they do ... impacts birds and forest and wildlife."

RISKING EVERYTHING

Jeff Wells left his job, and thusly left his only form of income behind. It's a wonder his wife, herself having given birth to the couple's only child a few weeks earlier, hadn't chosen to leave him behind.

"She let me do it," Wells said, laughing over a cup of coffee as he told the story. "I was amazed."

In hindsight, Wells called it a "leap of faith." A giant leap of faith.

For the better part of half a decade, Wells worked tirelessly on the project he'd risked everything for. When all was said and done, Wells had created "Birder's Conservation Handbook: 100 North American Birds at Risk." The book was published last year by the highly-regarded Princeton University Press and received glowing reviews from across the nation -- from birding scholars to bird enthusiasts.

But perhaps the best review of Wells' book was one he gave himself.

"I always wanted to reach up on the shelf and be able to pull down that one book that has everything you need in it," Wells said. "That's the way I use this book -- and I use it myself now. People say to me all the time that I must have memorized everything that's in it, but I can't. There's just too much there.

"I use it the very same way anybody else would. It's a conservation tool."

PUTTING IT ON PAPER

When Wells gave up his job at the National Audubon Society, he did so with a very clear picture of what he wanted people to get from his book -- one which he spent almost five years producing.

"One of the messages of the book, among a number of things, is trying to make sure we're protecting the 'last of the large,' " Wells said, referring to the massive Boreal Forest region, much of which is unencumbered by human contact of any kind, including roadways or hiking trails. "The big remaining ecosystems, still unfragmented, are our forests. One of globe's last original big ecosystems is the Boreal Forest."

And that forest holds millions and millions of the birds we see here on migratory routes that pass through Maine.

"There's migration we take for granted in the winter," Wells said. "In the spring, we have 20 different species of warblers -- and they're all here because we still have this one last (untouched) place. It's the last place on earth where you can fly over in a plane for two hours and not see signs of human life. It's important for us to think about what we're doing here and how it affects that."

It's the battle cry of the conservationist, one Wells has gladly shouldered. Now, he's just hoping that when we enjoy a rare peek at a Redpoll or a Waxwing or a Grosbeak irruption near the state's capitol building, we'll think about what that bird went through to get to Maine -- and maybe how we can help protect the vast Boreal Forest, too.

"Almost their entire global population is in the Boreal Forest," he said. "Maine is one of few places where they show up with regularity, but how many people think of their connections?"

Count Wells as one that does.

Travis Barrett -- 621-5648

tbarrett@centralmaine.com