Urban Birdwatchers Anonymous
I’ve lived in cities now more than half of my life but grew up in the country, so I have a long-standing love of nature. Big open wilds, small pocket parks, and everything in between. I like animals, I like plants, and I like bugs.
That said, I surprised even myself as in the last few years have gotten really into birds and birdwatching. It’s wholesome, a bit dorky, decidedly not a “cool” hobby, and like weather tracking (another interest of mine), aiming an anecdote about it at the wrong person is a conversation-ender. It reminds me of my grandfather, in a good way - a serious person (like me) and retired army officer, who got deep into birdwatching during retirement to the shock of my aunts and uncles. So maybe it’s in the blood.
A good measure for how into birding I am is that I often share (inflict?) snaps or reports of recent bird sightings with whoever will humor me. That probably inspired my family to gift me a copy of the Sibley guide (the ultimate birding book) by David Allen Sibley and The Backyard Bird Chronicles by Amy Tan. I don’t even have a backyard, but my deck and a modest nearby park are more than enough to yield some cool sightings.
On my deck I’ve had visits from finches both gold and purple, cardinals, hawks, mourning doves, seagulls, and of course pigeons. Pigeons are boring to some people, but these birds have real personality, their ability to adapt and thrive anywhere is fascinating. A local flock has taken up residence on a nearby roof where they sleep every evening, and I’ve begun to recognize certain individuals. I occasionally hear crows and ravens, though none have visited to my knowledge, likely because I haven't left any offerings yet.
The nearby park runs along a channel, so it gets a variety of fresh and saltwater birds. I’ve seen the usual hissing Canada geese, mallard ducks, various gulls, cormorants, and diving-bombing terns. But also graceful blue herons, cute-as-a-button buffleheads, mergansers, loons, great egrets visiting from a nearby island, and for one strange winter, a single mute swan (!). The latest addition is a black-crowned night heron, who has a very bad-ass name, and who also stands so still on the edge of the shore at first I second-guessed if it was a bird at all.
I may dabble in watching a bird or two, who can say?
More evidence this may be a terminal affliction: back in February, in the middle of a cold snap, I spent a Saturday on a wildlife cruise. Frigid wind be damned, the boat was packed with people, all walks of life. Many had serious birding binos, and wielded cameras with expensive-looking telephoto lenses and other gear. I brought my entry-level Canon binoculars, phone camera, and (thankfully) a pair of gloves. Normally being so visibly under-equipped would make me feel awkward and unqualified. Turns out, my basic kit was just fine and I didn’t need to worry about feeling out of place. People were welcoming, made space for others to get good shots, and pointed out exciting finds like a snowy owl sitting at the edge of a runway. Birding is for everyone!
It still feels like a funny thing to get into. But! It makes me so much more attuned to my surroundings and the rhythms of the day and each season. Like: I know it’s dusk when the egret is fishing along the shore, and it’s not spring til I see the buffleheads out swimming in pairs.
As I end this, a live feed of a puffin colony is playing on my second monitor. I still don’t have expensive binos or a fancy camera, and I don’t keep a log book. Maybe that makes me a dilettante, but if so that’s fine. I’m content to keep it casual, snap a few photos, and enjoy the sightings when they happen. So, dorks unite - let’s go watch some birds!