One hobby; three paths

I have come back to birding in my middle age and come to an appreciation of the differences between different types of what is effectively the same activity.  “Looking at birds” is not how most people describe their hobby that they have devoted time, effort, and plenty of money to, but is probably the most accurate description anyway.  And that seems to cover it.  For all our technological advances, all our online effort to learn and discover, at the practical end of the pastime, us birders look at birds.

This week I have taken part in my three preferred ways of engaging with seeing birds.  I have watched my local patch, recording and surveying the species I saw via various apps and sites; I have twitched (how I hate the word, but still find it apposite) a Collared Flycatcher; and I have spent time with friends walking in stunning locations I’ve never seen before and seeing a huge variety of wildlife as part of the walk.

It’s only human to have a preference amongst these three styles of “bird-looking”, and that can change with age, experience, the season; but I find all three fulfilling in different ways.  

The familiarity of the local patch and the close knowledge of all the birds that dwell there makes me feel connected to my local area in a way nothing else does, despite having lived 30 years here.  This gives me roots, somewhere to return to when life is dizzying, stressful and chaotic.

With that said, I love the adrenaline of the rush to see a bird I haven’t seen before, especially when that bird is as beautiful as a Collared Flycatcher.  There is something that makes me feel alive and exhilarated when I “find” (follow someone else’s directions to!) a bird of this calibre and the memory of seeing it will live long for me.  Driving home in the euphoria of seeing something unusual, of the shared experience with dozens of other birders, having spent an hour studying how the bird moves and behaves, gives me time to reflect on the good things in life.  There is a luxury in having the time and resource to travel and try to see a bird, and that should be appreciated - the correct response should be gratitude for the opportunity.

Between those two poles of birding, one solitary and slow, one communal and fast, is the big day out.  Visiting places you rarely go in order to see a wide variety of birds in the company of good friends.  The novelty here is not in rare birds (though those are welcome) or in detailed local knowledge (though it can be very useful), but in new landscapes and interactions with people on the journey.  Walking in a sunlit Welsh woodland at 7am, surrounded by singing Wood Warblers and Redstarts while laughing at the mistakes we each make as we try to work out what else is singing in an unfamiliar but beautiful place creates community that can be lacking in the lives of lots of people who increasingly feel disconnected by the demands of surviving modern life.

Rather than there being a right or a wrong way to encounter birds, perhaps a little of each is the best combination to do you some good.  After all, what could be better than a hobby that makes you feel rooted and local, excited and well-traveled, and welcome and included all at once?