MIO, Mich. (AP) -- It's enough to make a spotted owl green with envy: The timber industry, environmentalists and government regulators are working together to try to save an endangered bird called the Kirtland's warbler.
The same groups that have been at each other's throats over the habitat of the spotted owl have united to try to save the half-ounce, yellow-breasted warbler, also threatened by a shrinking habitat.
The endangered owl dwells in the Pacific Northwest's old-growth forests, where a 3-year-old logging ban cost thousands of jobs. A federal judge lifted the ban Tuesday.
By contrast, the warbler lives near young trees, nesting in the thick underbrush beneath stands of jack pines just 5 to 15 years old.
"They're very picky," biologist David Case said.
The pines start dying when they reach 16 to 20 feet, but by that time, they've choked the undergrowth.
Historically, wildfires preserved warbler habitat by destroying older trees. Heat from the fire bursts the pine cones and scatters their seeds, giving birth to a new generation of trees.
But as more people moved into the area, they fought the fires, disrupting the cycle and shrinking the bird's habitat.
As of last year, fewer than 1,000 of the warblers were known to exist -- all within an eight-county area of Michigan's Lower Peninsula.
Now, state and federal agencies use controlled burns and clear-cutting to restore the habitat. Private logging companies cut the timber.
"The reason the Endangered Species Act is working in Michigan is one simple word -- partnerships," said Charles Wooley, Kirtland's project leader for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
"It is nice not to have the kinds of problems they've got in the Pacific Northwest," said Paul Call, raw materials manager for Weyerhauser Co.'s mill in nearby Grayling, which buys some of the pines harvested to bolster warbler habitat.
Biologist Rex Ennis, of the U.S. Forest Service, was among several dozen biologists and volunteers who fanned out Friday for the last day of the annual Kirtland's census.
Cupping an ear, he strained to hear the warbler's melodious chirp. Hearing one, he noted the warbler's approximate location on a map, then resumed his trek.
Conservation groups such as the Michigan Audubon Society and the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation help fund the census program.
Annual Kirtland's counts began in 1971, when a 10-year census showed a sharp drop in their numbers. In 1974, only 167 males were counted.
The 1993 census found 485 males, up 22 percent from the previous year. It will take several days to tally this year's figures.
But scientists say the warbler will remain endangered until the population stabilizes at 1,000 or more pairs -- which probably won't happen until well into the next century, if ever.
Meanwhile, the first Kirtland's Warbler Festival, sponsored by the local Chamber of Commerce, begins today and runs through June 19. The festival illustrates area residents' evolution from hostility to enthusiasm about the preservation effort, festival Chairwoman Vergie Purchase said.
"The more we understood this little bird and the economic impact it could have, we decided we'd better celebrate," said Mrs. Purchase, owner of the nearby Songbird Motel. "It's a great way to promote tourism."