The Germination of “I’m Birding Right Now”

For much of our lives, we didn’t know birds existed.
 
Well, not exactly, but maybe you know what we mean. We always knew birds were a thing, of course, but only as a fact of life at places they were hard to ignore – like “seagulls” at the beach, or pigeons on the city sidewalk. They were easy to look past as if they were props on a set. Like furniture.
 
We liked walking around outside, though. And our eyes were open while we walked – at least, literally. Gradually, our eyes began to open in the figurative sense.
 
First, we started to wonder which trees surrounded us aside from the mighty redwood. We borrowed a tree dichotomous key from two fellow nature-curious friends and decided to learn. Being able to ID some trees was motivating, as it was fun to put names to things.
 
“A-ha! A Douglas-fir.”
 
“Ooh! A Pacific Madrone!”
 
Paying attention in this way helped us start to see the natural world more clearly. And paying attention led to paying closer attention.
 
The trees – as is their nature – had sown a seed.
 
We wanted to learn more about our natural surroundings, so we looked for guided hikes in the area. We found a LandPaths raptor hike with naturalist “Duck Dave” Barry and signed up, thinking, “Hawks seem pretty cool.” During the walk, the difference in how he experienced the trail and how we did was mind-blowing.
 
At one point, Dave said, “Nature has a story to tell if you can read it.”
 
“Hmmm,” we thought, “we don’t want to be illiterate anymore…”
 
Dave had watered the seed.
 
Around this time, our friend Adam mentioned a birding trip he took with his dad, an expert birder. We knew Adam enjoyed this thing called “birding,” but had never really grasped what it was all about. When we expressed interest, he invited us to look at birds with him at a local park. He showed us a Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a Brown Creeper, and a Red-tailed Hawk, among others. We wrote them all down on the back of an envelope.
 
At the time, we had no inkling of how important birds would become in our lives, but the idea that we could actively go look for them was intriguing. We began to try our hand at it.
 
Not long after that first birding excursion, we were again with Adam, walking our dog in the redwoods. We didn’t have binoculars with us, just a leash. We weren’t birding. At least, the two of us weren’t birding…
 
As we chatted, Teresa asked, “Hey Adam, when you go birding –”
 
“I’m birding right now,” Adam abruptly interrupted.
 
It didn’t matter that we went out just to walk the dog. We were outside. We were in the woods. Birds live there. Adam was birding the walk while we were just walking the dog.
 
The seed had sprouted.
 
The phrase, “I’m birding right now,” stuck with us as our interest in birds grew quickly into an obsession, consuming our waking hours. We started to regularly go outside with the intent to bird. But, it soon became apparent that designating “birding time” was arbitrary. Birds were always around whether or not we intended to “bird.”
 
”I’m birding right now…” echoed in our ear when a California Towhee tink-ed at dawn outside our bedroom window.
 
“I’m birding right now…” when a Turkey Vulture soared over the treeline as we drove down the road.
 
“I’m birding right now…” when the scream of a Red-tailed Hawk played in the background of a Western movie.
 
You can always be birding.
 
It took us another year or so for this phrase to consistently ring true. But today – at all times – we can honestly say…
 
I’m birding. Right. Now.