I recently went on my first guided bird hike at Lake Elmo Park Reserve, along with a friend I’d manage to rope into the deal. On a blustery, lifeless gray day in January, our small group, outfitted with binoculars and heavy boots, hiked about a mile in the raw winter wind. Our reward for this exercise: a handful of chickadees and two ring-necked pheasants.
Even while we shivered back into the car, my friend and I agreed that sighting so few birds during the outing was hardly discouraging. Birding takes hours upon hours worth of observation–but there’s no reason you have to do it all at once.
“You don’t even have to go out of your way to do it,” I said as we cruised down the freeway on the way home, watching a flock of crows harassing a bald eagle. You see them on light posts above the roadways, at feeders in your neighbors yards, outside your office window. If you’re watching, you start to know their habits: these chickadees live in the decorative spruce next door, the ducks visit the feeders at the dentist’s office across the street.
Birding is a recreational activity that doesn’t even require you to leave the house–but it certainly can if you’re really into it. I’ve had a background interest in birds and identification since I was a kid–I adored Stan Tekiela’s Minnesota bird guide–but until now, I never called myself a birder. This New Years, I jokingly announced my intent to do a “Minnesota Big Year.” I later heard my Dad brag about this to a woman who worked for a nature preserve, who was instantly alarmed by this news.
Far from a “Big Year,” my interest in birding is more casual (if you’d refer to frequent visits to a rural pioneer cemetery in search of a rumored, rare varied thrush as casual.) Thanks to my job as a journalist, I spend increasing amounts of time traveling across landscape that is excellent territory for all manner of birds. Over the past month or so, it has become a major pursuit of mine, and I’m loving every minute of it.
Observing and learning about birds has even fed into my job at the newspaper. One of things that got me started birding was the unusual arrival of a trumpeter swan at a lake near my house on Christmas Eve. A neighbor I spoke to said that he planned to catch the swan and bring it into the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center because he suspected it had lead poisoning. I learned less than a week later that he had done so, and that the swan was being treated at the WRC. The event turned into an article about the danger and frequency of lead poisoning for local wildlife.
So clearly, I am not the laziest of birders, but my point is that anyone can do it at most any time, provided there’s a window nearby. You might also get some delightful photos, and maybe a reason to get out of the house and take a walk (and may I point out for those, like me, who are recent college grads, this is an activity that is completely and blessedly free.)
The annual Christmas Bird Count, which took place during the end of December, really drew my attention to thriving birding community in the area. The annual Great Backyard Bird Count is coming up, set to take place Feb. 12-15, and anyone can sign up to participate. I’ve been on the list for more than a month.
I recently had the opportunity to hear a presentation by National Geographic photographer and Minnesota native Jim Brandenburg, who is famous for his photographs of wild wolves near his home in Ely. Since I had recently learned about the Christmas Bird Count, he said something that reminded me of the way the Audubon Society had repurposed traditional Christmas Day bird hunts into a merely observational bird census, to reduce the harm to bird populations.
Quoting loosely, Brandenburg said that he had grown up in rural Laverne, Minnesota hunting throughout his youth. His transition to photography presented almost exactly the same principle as his days hunting wild game, except at the end, the animal lived and he got to keep the photo as a token of the experience.
As someone who also comes from a hunting family, I find the process of searching for, locating and photographing these birds significantly more rewarding. And as I said before, it’s a heck of a lot less expensive. There’s no need to photograph birds in order to go birding, but in case you do, the average iPhone is all you need to capture a half-decent image. A spunky Twin Cities birder named Sharon “Birdchick” Stiteler even teaches methods of digiscoping, or enhancing cameras with scopes explicitly for birding. She also hosts a monthly bird-focused social event called Birds and Beers. I’ve been trying to get to one for almost a year and a half–maybe one day soon.