My New Favorite Hobby Is…Birdwatching?
I’m bad at relaxing.
Laying on the couch all day, bingeing Netflix? Unheard of. Even when I’m sick, I have to force myself to be lazy, the whole time itching to be getting something done. I always bring a book to the beach because no way can I just sit there. And meditating? I’ve tried. I’ve failed.
This is largely because I have obsessive-compulsive disorder and anxiety. If I don’t give my brain something to focus on, it’ll find a fear to focus on instead. It’s hard for me to slow down and let my mind wander.
Except when I’m birdwatching.
Yes, birdwatching. As in, going into the woods with a camera and binoculars and a field guide and getting excited about spotting a Blackburnian Warbler.
As a 25-year-old woman, I don’t fit the birdwatcher stereotype, which consists of retirees and weirdos. (Well, jury’s still out on that second part.) It’s not a hobby I planned to take up. My mom has always loved attracting birds to our backyard; she even has a heated birdbath for the winter. But my interest didn’t span beyond that until, ironically, I moved to Chicago.
The lakefront east of my neighborhood is home to a migratory bird sanctuary that’s regarded as one of the best birding spots in the state. Over 300 species have been spotted there. I started going there because its little bit of woods and prairie and dunes allowed me to forget I was in the city for a while.
During spring migration, I loved hearing the birds singing all around me. And eventually I decided that if I was going to be seeing all of them, I might as well know what species they were. I downloaded the Merlin Bird ID app, started bringing my camera with me to the sanctuary, and pretty soon I was able to tell the difference between a White-throated and White-crowned Sparrow.
During spring and fall migrations, I go the sanctuary on at least a weekly basis. I can spend an hour there, walking the woods, then the prairie, then the shore, scanning the trees and listening for rustling on the ground. Not listening to music or a podcast to distract me. Just looking for birds, alone in my mind.
To many, it seems boring or dorky. I love it.
Birdwatching is meditative. It’s a time where I can clear my head while still giving my brain a focus so it doesn’t wander too far. I’m usually the type of person who speed-walks past others, but when birdwatching I’m forced to slow down. I have to be silent. I have to pay attention. Sometimes I have to just stop and stand for a moment, waiting. I almost always see other birders, but we rarely talk, nor is there pressure to. As an introvert who loathes small talk, it’s nice to be in an environment where it’s completely acceptable to stand silently next to each other, pointing your zoom lens at the same tree, and if you talk it’s just to give a tip about how you saw some Willets along the shore earlier. It’s a quiet activity in an increasingly noisy world.
Plus, birds are just cool. They’re the descendants of dinosaurs. They’re alternately adorable (the tiny, hopping Ruby-crowned Kinglet), gorgeous (the multicolored Chestnut-Sided Warbler), goofy (the long-legged Common Gallinule), and awe-inspiring (the massive Great Egret as it spreads its wings and takes off). The Killdeer’s call is one of the most beautifully mournful sounds I know. Every April the Black-bellied Plover flies from the Atlantic coast to the Arctic Circle, and in the middle of that journey of thousands of miles I get to see them stopping, ever so briefly, along the Lake Michigan shore.
I keep a checklist of the birds I’ve seen, but I’m not competitive about it. I made an account on eBird, where birders log their sightings for science, but I’ve never posted to it. It would require taking meticulous notes about how many of each species I saw that day, and for once in my life, I don’t want to be meticulous. I used to feel bad about this, like I should be contributing to the world, or otherwise it’s not a good use of time. Instead, I’ve embraced the pointlessness of it all. My birdwatching is not productive. I do it for myself, and I do it solely because I enjoy it. I do it to relax.
And that, I’ve learned, is a good thing.
