Dr. Jay's interest in birds began in an undergraduate ornithology course at Hobart and William Smith College. The Bryn Mawr, Pa., native soon found himself recording bird songs in the woods of upstate New York. Fascinated with the behavior of birds and other animals, he went on to study psychology at Newfoundland's Memorial University. Part of the attraction was the rugged maritime coast, home to some of the largest seabird colonies on the continent. Here, he observed the social behavior of Gannets and Storm Petrels on windswept Baccalieu Island. But while the swarms of dive-bombing seabirds were exciting, he chose to do his thesis on the musical little Savannah Sparrow.

Pitocchelli's ornithological odyssey then took him to City University of New York, where he earned a Ph.D. in biology. His thesis topic was the Mourning Warbler. He spent six years teaching at Queens College, close to what he considers one of the best birding locations in the country: Central Park.

All this time observing the courtship behavior of his feathered subjects left him little time for his own romantic pursuits. Three years ago, he married Kris, a doctor completing a residency in radiology. She shares his love of outdoor recreation, including tennis, Alpine and Nordic skiing, canoeing, and cycling.

Many bird watchers keep a life list, a steadily growing record of every species observed. Pitocchelli doesn't have a life list as such, but his life is marked by a series of birding highlights. He vividly recalls his first sighting of a Rhinoceros Auklet (Alaska), and the sensation of waking up to the sound of Sandhill Cranes battling for territory (Alberta, Canada).

Whenever he goes someplace new, the "must-see" pops up in his mind: a mental box to be checked off if at all possible. Some people headed for Hawaii at the end of a long New Hampshire winter would dream of tall drinks and luaus. Pitocchelli's fervent hope was catching sight of a Nene (pronounced nay-nay), the endangered goose that is the state's official bird. After a wild goose chase all over Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, he finally found about a dozen of the world's population of 250 on a golf course. Should he go to Bermuda, Dr. Jay will be on the lookout for a White-tailed Tropicbird. And the next time he's in Alaska, he'll be scanning the sky for something he failed to spot in six summers there: a Short-tailed Albatross.

Pitocchelli's own back yard, on a back road in Dunbarton, N.H., provides many wildlife sightings. The forest edges right up to the deck of his log cabin and harbors moose, deer, bears, and the occasional bobcat. He feeds birds winter and summer, taking note of the single Fox Sparrow that visits annually, and the welcome visit of an Indigo Bunting. He plants fruit trees and blueberry bushes to attract mockingbirds and waxwings; bee balm and phlox to attract hummingbirds; and Christmas trees to attract deer and turkeys. Those deer unwary or unlucky enough to wander onto his 17 acres during hunting season are taking their chances: Piotocchelli has a lifetime New Hampshire hunting license. (An avid oenophile, he can pick out a good red wine to go with venison.)

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