A Word About Birds

 It doesn’t take much to get me rhapsodizing about birds. In fact, on my last birthday one of George’s gifts to me was one hour over dinner where I could talk about birds uninterrupted. That I’ve held off blogging about birds until this point is an uncharacteristic show of restraint on my part.

Anna’s Hummingbird

At the beginning this avian love affair was all about me. I had a Type A need to locate, identify and categorize every bird I saw. I read books about birds. I went to all the birding hot spots I could find. I watched DVDs and nature shows to learn everything I could about my fine feathered friends. (I still do.)

 I also loved birding because it was something I could do any time, anywhere. I loved how I could spot a bird, pause, and experience a moment in time where I wasn’t running around like – to use a bird-inspired expression – a chicken with its head cut off. Birding continually brought me into the moment. I cherished those brief glimpses of nature throughout my hectic day. (I still do.)

 

Birding has served me well. But the relationship has changed. Over time my birding has made me aware of how connected I am to nature, and how it’s my turn to give back to the birds that bring me so much joy.

 

This weekend I read a wonderful Grist.org interview with author Jonathan Franzen (Freedom, The Corrections, et. al.). Franzen is heavily involved with bird conservation, and through this work he has discovered that a love of birds requires a deeper environmental commitment. As the interviewer paraphrased, once you love something “whether it’s a warbler or a woman”  it is on you to protect the world in which it thrives.

 

Franzen replies, “The thing about birds is, they’re everywhere, so if you care about them as a group, that pretty much ties into the oceans, the atmosphere, climate change, energy, all of that stuff.”

 

I don’t think I had made this connection before, although I do know that my commitment to environmental protection has increased tenfold in the years I have been tromping through the woods and waters in search of birds for my life list. His comment rings true for me. Once I connected the dots —  that the birds I love swim in the waters where we dump our trash and sewage, fly through the air that my car pollutes and build their nests in the trees that were cut down to build the housing tract where I live — I had the heartbreaking epiphany that I am not only responsible for minimizing impact on the environment, but I am also responsible for actively working to conserve the environment. For the birds.

 

My favorite bird, the American White Pelican.

It’s not enough for me to pull the car or bike over and stare in wonder as a flock of American white pelicans soars overhead. It’s not enough for me to nod at the Anna’s hummingbird that buzzes my ear. It’s not enough to set millet out for the enormously fat California towhees that make a mess of my patio every morning. I must do something real for them. I can’t wait for someone else to keep the world safe for our most delicate inhabitants. If it is true love – and it is – it is my duty to protect them.

 

So that’s why I pick up trash on the trails. It’s why I bike or walk when I can. It’s why I refuse, reuse and recycle. It’s why I use environmentally safe cleaning products in my home. It’s why I purchase organic, local produce. It’s why I patronize businesses that share my environmental values. It’s why I give money to the local and national organizations that are working to save the wetlands, scrub up birds who have been slathered in oil, and rescue baby birds who have been orphaned and raptors that have been hit by trucks.

The unassuming, adorable, greagarious California Tohwee. Definitely in my Top Ten.

 

As I feather my own nest every day, I let my thoughts fly to the birds. They truly are my inspiration for this little life of less. And it is with a grateful heart that I thank them for encouraging me to find even more ways to serve them.

 

What inspires you?