Lili Taylor reads a passage from her acclaimed book Turning to Birds during a special "Bird Awe Walk" in Prospect Park with NYC Bird Alliance's Tod Winston. Photo: McNally Jackson
Ahead of September 11, we’re pleased to share an excerpt from Turning to Birds, a new collection of essays by actress, activist, and NYC Bird Alliance board member Lili Taylor. In her essay “Tribute in Light,” Lili reflects on her first year volunteering as a collision monitor at the 9/11 Tribute in Light Memorial back in 2017.
Enjoy an excerpt of the stunning essay below, with a special introduction from Lili about the importance of Lights Out policy and action, written specifically for our readership: ...
Lili Taylor, Actress, Activist, and NYC Bird Alliance Board Member | August 29, 2025
For the first time on the evening of September 11, 2002, two giant beams shined into the sky, a memorial commemorating the lives we lost on that tragic day. In the first few years, I would look at the lights from across the river in Brooklyn. But one year, I got a little closer and noticed there were particles in the light. It wasn’t until I volunteered with NYC Bird Alliance (at the time NYC Audubon) and joined them on the roof of the garage where those giant beams are housed, that I came to understand that those particles were birds and they needed help.
Those massive beams, officially called the 9/11 Tribute in Light Memorial, allow us to reflect on the human lives we lost but they also shine a light on what happens to birds when they are drawn into artificial light. They become disoriented, their compass thrown off; trapped in the light, they fly endlessly in circles until their light goes out.
NYC Bird Alliance, with their dedicated scientists and eager volunteers, monitor and count those trapped birds from dusk to dawn, and when the number of birds reaches 1,000, the Tribute in Light organizers graciously turn out the lights for 20 minutes, allowing the birds to continue their migratory journey.
I have been volunteering since 2017 and I’ve witnessed firsthand how the bird-safe movement is growing. Thanks to organizations like NYC Bird Alliance and National Audubon Society, bird-safe building design and advocacy for Lights Out legislation have entered the national conversation, especially due to visible collision monitoring events like the Tribute in Light. But there’s so much more we can do throughout the year.
I hope during this fall migration, when you spot a Rose-breasted Grosbeak or Chestnut-sided Warbler in your local park, you’ll reflect on the journey that bird is embarking on. We all have a role to play in helping them arrive safely and there are specific ways to help: we can speak up for Lights Out legislation, talk with our community and its leaders about the importance of reducing light pollution during migration. Every act counts towards reducing the one billion bird collisions that occur every year in the U.S.
I hope you enjoy this short excerpt from my new book, Turning to Birds: The Power and Beauty of Noticing.
“TRIBUTE IN LIGHT” BY LILI TAYLOR, AN EXCERPT
“How many are you seeing?”
“I’m at about 759.”
Again, I’m seeing what looks like fifty. I get very serious inside and summon my concentration, all my senses. I try not to think. Just look. Just look. My vision climbs slowly up the beam, pushing through the light. Some invisible birds become visible. I try counting but can’t. But I am seeing more birds. It’s as if I’m willing my eyes to go beyond what they can do. I re- member they are a muscle and keep pushing. And I see more birds, with a kind of X-ray vision. I don’t understand what I’m raying through, but it is happening.
There are so many birds, spanning all floors of the beam. More and more birds are dropping lower, a sign that their ef- forts at getting out of the light are failing. Doug thinks we are getting close to that special number, but close is not enough. It has to be one thousand—or literally a bird in hand.
Doug jumps up to consult with Susan, but there is no need, for in her palm lies a magnolia warbler, a male with bold streaks of black running down its yellow chest. I’m moved by how small it is—much smaller than the magnolias I’d watched flitting from tree to tree.
She will bring the bird in hand to the light people. But it is by no means a sealed deal that the lights will turn off. Each time it is a negotiation, a gentle explaining. It is a miracle we are even on this roof. The relationship between the Tribute in Light people and the folks at NYC Bird Alliance and Cornell Lab of Ornithology has been twenty years in the making. Andrew Farnsworth, the ornithologist from Cornell, said it took seven years for them to even start talking. They stayed with it, despite the slow progress, adjusting expectations and strategies for a long game, always with respect and courteousness, the skills of listening and empathy.
We all stand fixated on the beams of light as we await Susan’s return with the verdict. There is no need to count any- more because the numbers had reached critical mass.
There is nowhere for the birds to go but down, their precious fuel burning out in the cages of light. They descend slowly, inexorably, gravity taking its toll. Their flight disor- dered, feeble. With each descent, their panicked flight calls increase, faint but piercing. Each call summons our instinct to help, to do something, but that instinct also has nowhere to go, so it paces and frets.
And then an explosion of dark. The beams are gone like a monster vanquished.
Susan the scientist emerges from the darkness met with a soft chorus of cheers. The lights will stay off for twenty minutes, the determined length of time it will take the birds to ori- ent themselves and continue their migration.
We mill about for another fifteen minutes, jobless until the lights come on.
Once they do, we turn our attention to Andrew Farnsworth, binoculars up, standing alone closer to the beams, a captain at the bow of a ship, and wait for his all clear.
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