Why Birds?

I am an unabashed bird nerd.  And why not?  Clearly, birds are engaging and relevant.  Have you seen Portlandia?  If my (completely outdated and total lack of) understanding of pop culture is at all accurate, everything is better with a bird on it.  I apply this logic to travel, and so far it has worked for me.  

Ok, let’s go beyond the ubiquitous use of birds in logos and owls in all types of merchandise (for which I will blame J.K. Rowling).  The power of birds to capture the interest and imagination of people is still a remarkable thing.  They can be omens of doom or icons of peace.  Some cultures continue to revere particular birds, many species have been associated with deities, and throughout the ages birds have been symbols – of wisdom, of cleverness, of strength.  And now we have achieved the pinnacle of adoration, the ultimate culmination of civilization’s long history of fascination with all things avian. Indeed, I am referring to the most noble act of… birding.  

Yes, birds have inspired a subculture and have become the target of a specific activity, and without any effort of their own.  They have fan clubs who travel the world to see them and, with a bit of luck, take candid photographs of them doing mundane activities. Do birds spend countless hours updating their insta to increase their fame? Nope. Do they fret about how to be a better avian influencer? Uh, no. They’re birds. They haven’t a clue that we hairless apes have developed a keen fascination with them. Frankly, they could not care less.  And yet the culture persists, regardless of their utter indifference.  

Flocking Together

Welcome to the world of birdwatching.  Birders.  Listers.  Twitchers.  Big Years.  Life Lists.  A yearly list?  A county list?  Basically, it is (sometimes) competitive birding.  For those who want anxiety and drama added to a sedate, somewhat geeky pastime.  Legitimately, name your goal.  Any goal.  The most birds on a continent, the most birds in a year, the most birds in a lifetime – some people really enjoy seeing the most birds.  How about seeing one of every genus or family in the world?  Every warbler in the Americas?  You define your own priorities and pursue them with binoculars in hand (but most likely on a chest harness and with a floppy hat, because function before fashion, people). 

I describe this hobby tongue firmly in cheek, because I embrace its wackiness.  I can see how absurd it might appear to the non-birder.  The obsession with feathered detail and the willingness to pursue an odd trill might not resonate with everyone.  Also, most folks do not enjoy 4a.m. wake-up calls on their vacation, from what I’m told.

Well. Most folks do not enjoy 4a.m. wake-up calls ever.

Despite acknowledging the absurdity and irreverence of this diversion, I do have “bucket list” species. These are the species I’d travel the world to see.  The ones I’d return for if I don’t see them.  But I am about as competitive as a ball of putty.  I have a “life list” – and that, for the uninitiated, is a list of every species of (wild, living) bird I’ve ever seen.  I also have lists for trips, which I might fail to add to my life list for years.  Don’t judge me.  

So, again… Why Birds?

Birds are beautiful. 

Well, that might be obvious enough, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  Maybe not every species – the unfortunately-named “dull-colored grasquit” would probably struggle to win a beauty pageant. The maribou stork has a face that perhaps only a mother could love? But many species are breathtaking, and this is primarily due to one defining characteristic:  the feather.  Many of our country’s current conservation laws – and wildlife refuges – protecting birds stem from our fascination with the most elegant and eye-catching plumes, particularly the desire for those feathers to be in ladies’ hats rather than on birds. Feathers are sometimes long and delicate, intricately shaped, or completely flamboyant.  The contrasts are striking; the colors can be vivid, even iridescent.  And the patterns and combinations seem nearly infinite.

Birds are fascinating. 

Their appearance might be pleasing to the eye, but their behavior and physical features appeal to the imagination.  The adaptations are endless, sometimes decadent – selective pressures leading to excessive tail feathers, vibrant colors, and elaborate courtship rituals.  And the fastest creature on earth, diving at 240mph to capture prey midair. Then there are flightless birds who can eviscerate a man, waddling penguins able to powerfully swim with undeniable grace, and magnificent soaring seabirds spending years without touching land.  And, of course, the complexity and variation of song, proclaiming identity to the world.

Birds are dinosaurs. 

Dinosaurs who learned to fly, diversified, and decided to sing about it.  Several of the largest eagles consistently include monkeys in their diet, and I appreciate this in a bird.  Also, there are cassowaries.  I rest my case.

Seriously, the answer to “why birds?” could simply be answered by “there are cassowaries”.

Chasing Tail Feathers

So maybe I am a lousy birder.  Sometimes my feeders go empty for days (honestly weeks) before I fill them again. It’s rare for me to go birding in my local area.  I take years to update my life list.  I don’t get excited about extremely rare species, which is almost a requirement. But I become overly excited about a common bird because it’s pretty or has a fancy tail.  I have travelled to a country to join a 3-week birding tour without actually opening my bird guide.  

Yep, I am definitely a lousy birder.  

And yet, I will travel the world to see new (and old) birds.  Geek I may be, but travel for birding has allowed me to explore outside of typical major world cities, to view wildlife and landscapes I would not have imagined.  Birding is a pursuit – of the awkward and the awesome, the rare or the resplendent – down paths less traveled, to destinations otherwise unexplored.