As birders, we take pride in spotting birds when civilians see only trees, water, or sky. We can drive down the highway and rack up 20 species in ten miles. Sitting on the soccer field, the mixed kettle of hawks and vultures captivates our attention despite the home team’s last minute rally. Even our most valiant efforts to point out these sights to the non-believers can fall short.
I can empathize with the avian deprived.
Holding his hand down a wooded path, I am frequently jarred to a stop by my 1 year old son. “Buh - dada - buh” he grunts excitedly. Try as I may, I neither see any movement nor hear any sound. I scan the area for several minutes, paying extra atention in the direction of that tiny pointer finger, but still nothing.
Within our next few leaf crunching steps, out flushes a female cardinal from under a particularly thick rhododendron. He heralds the departure, “Buh - dada - buh!” This mini-drama has had many matinees with different species playing the lead role.
It’s amazing when those little eyes find birds hidden in the foliage before daddy. I always chalk it up to his advantageous angle instead of my aging senses. The truth probably lies somewhere in between the two. OK - I’ll concede that it’s leaning heavily towards the former.
(originally posted August 2006)
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