Learning about birds and people
In my continued quest to meet people and make friends, I decided to explore some new interests. Since I wrote a novel that included whistling bird calls (inspired by my grandmother who could whistle over forty different bird calls), I thought, why not take up bird watching?! Plus, I’m over 60 and according to several meme accounts, bird watching is a sure sign of old age! I didn’t find any Meetup groups for bird watching in my area, so searched online for “bird watching near me” and amazingly (gotta love the internet!) found New Hope Bird Alliance, a group that’s affiliated with the National Audubon Society. My local group is more progressive and sensitive so they changed their organization’s name so it is no longer associated with the extreme racist, John James Audubon. (You can read more here, if interested.)
New Hope Bird Alliance hosts regular guided bird watching walks, free and open to the public, so I signed up for the next one—Sunday at 7:00am! We all know the early bird gets the worm, so I guess the early birder sees the birds. I dressed in long pants, sturdy shoes and brought snacks and water as suggested. The only binoculars I had were my dad’s and they must have been older than me! Once there, I had to talk myself into getting out of my car (again) to meet this group of strangers. Not only was I a bit nervous, but it was also cold (it was February after all), and so far there were only men gathering at the Brumley North trail head. In general, I’m not scared of men, just apprehensive about groups of them. After a few minutes of a self-pep-talk, I ventured out of my car, looped my heavy binoculars over my neck and sauntered over to the group. They were similarly dressed, each with binoculars and/or cameras with large lenses, long pants—some with their pant legs tucked into their white crew socks and easy smiles.
a group of birders trying to catch a glimpse of a feather
“Welcome! You must be Medora,” this big bear of a human extended his gloved hand to me. “I’m John.”
“It’s Me-lora.” I shook his hand and offered a half-smile.
It quickly became obvious that I was a novelty, being the newbie with no birding experience. They all welcomed me with kind faces, lots of birding advice, and patient explanations. Our group of seven elderly men and I followed John along the path as he and the others called out bird names they identified by their calls. It was fascinating—within forty steps and ten minutes, John had a list of over twenty birds.
“A White Eyed Vireo,” John pointed to a tall pine tree with his laser pen and the entire group raised their binoculars. All I could get into focus was tree bark.
“There’s an Eastern Towhee in that brush at 2:00,” said another gentleman and the group swished around in unison. I barely had my binoculars raised before they moved onto another bird in a different tree. I had much to learn!
Before I knew it, two hours had passed, we had walked about two miles and I could now identify the song of a Carolina Wren. I had sidled up to John and was amazed to learn that he could identify hundreds of bird calls. He had learned from his dad and had listened to hours of bird calls on CDs. He taught me his trick, make up words that mimic the calls. For example, Carolina Wren’s song is “cheater, cheater, cheater.”
Vern, one of the experts with a camera, taught me about Merlin—a free app developed by Cornell Lab Ornithology, the motherlode about birds, that can make your phone listen to bird calls and identify them. John also told me I needed to set-up an eBird account and then he'd send the list of over forty unique birds that we had either heard or seen (well they saw) on our walk that day. Apparently, your stats on eBird, another Cornell Lab invention, are as important as RBIs or GSHs for major league baseball players. I was hooked.
Bird watching, or birding as we savvy people say, has become a delightful pastime for me. My experiences were different than I had expected. I didn’t make close friends (yet) through my many birding walks but I did learn much about birds, songs, calls, and people. These men, and a few women, shared so much and were patient, kind, and non-threatening. I now have a new respect for song birds and was able to incorporate what I learned into my novel, making it richer. And I bought a new pair of binoculars that are lightweight and easily focused, recommended by John, Vern and the others.
I also have several feeders in my backyard and can identify over twenty different birds. And when we’re hiking, I whip out my Merlin app when I hear a song I can’t identify. This new appreciation of birds brings me closer to my grandmother too. One specific memory of her is when I was seven and we were sitting outside on her back patio in Shillington, Pennsylvania. She’d whistle a distinct call of the Northern Cardinal or the American Robin and those birds would come to the low brick wall, answering her call, without bread crumbs or birdseed. She called several others too but those are the two I remember. It was magical then and still is today. I love that when I’m out birding and I hear one of those calls, it connects me to her again. And even though I haven’t turned into an avid birdier (yet) or made new people friends through bird watching as I had expected, this quest hasn’t been without its rewards. I’ve learned more about myself, birds, and Merlin!
Have you been birding or do you enjoy watching birds at your own feeder? Please share in the comments below!
Stay curious and keep your eyes and ears open,
Melora Fern
