Bird by Bird

A male Bufflehead that I photographed in St. George, Utah in early February. It was a dark day, so my photograph doesn’t capture the purple and green iridescence this species shows in good light.

Written on 3/2/2024

I have been watching birds for so long that a lot of species are attached to specific memories. I associate many birds with positive experiences, but some fly with my remorse and shame weighing down their wings. I am working on identifying these species in my head, then seeking them out, so that I can redefine our relationships. When I find them again, I will take a moment to honor the birds, and unburden the both of us from the painful associations that I have been forcing them to carry all these years.

I have made so many mistakes in my adult life, and have hurt those that I cared for. I struggled with alcohol, poverty, and unchecked mental health issues for decades, and although these are not excuses, my brain wasn’t working right, and this altered the way that I treated people in my life. These are people that I spent time with outside, reveling in the beauty of nature and the splendor of birds.

I started to feel the need to detach memory from birds in 2015 when I ruined my marriage and got divorced. My ex-wife was infatuated with Mountain Bluebirds and Bufflehead. She loved the delicate natures and vivid colors of both. I have seen each species hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times since then, and I let go a little with each visit. It’s not that I miss her, I don’t, but remorse has a way of outlasting love.

There are bird species that remind me of expired friendships too. An old birding buddy of mine cut off contact with me years ago, and I miss his steadying presence in my life. I have not had as close of a bond with another man since. He and I found a singing Indigo Bunting deep in the backcountry of Capitol Reef National Park. We watched it for as long as it let us, and marveled in a sighting of a visually stunning species that barely breeds in the state of Utah. At the time, I felt that this brought us closer together. I have not seen one since then, and am looking for it now, so I can create a new memory.

There are so many species of birds that I must see before I can move on in life. I have many more examples of failed relationships and friendships over the last 10 years, and some of those unprocessed feelings will show up through birds. I have realized that one of my motivations in doing a biggest year, where I am trying to see 300 species in 2024, is so that I can perform a sort of spiritual renewal. Some species carry more weight than others: Gray Partridge, Indigo Bunting, Sharp-tailed Grouse, Greater Roadrunner, Black-tailed Gnatcatcher, Olive-sided Flycatcher, Band-tailed Pigeon, and Black Tern. These are a few examples of birds that I must find over the remaining 10 months of the year, and I know I’ll have to add to that list.

Two months into my biggest year, I have began to realize a latent motivation. This year is an apology tour, a chance for me to straighten myself out in the world. I turn to birds for comfort, but that is impossible to do when I have asked so many of them to carry these negative emotions. I must seek out all of them, and rid them of this burden, so we can enjoy a relationship unmarred by my mistakes.

I live in a new town now. I have forged new friendships. The only beer I drink is non-alcoholic. I try my best to follow the Buddhist eightfold path, particularly right conduct and right speech. I am heavily invested in my bi-weekly sessions with my therapist. I’ve tried to make amends with the people that I’ve hurt, but that’s not always possible. Now I just need to welcome the birds into a kinder future that I’ve been working so hard on.

This is my best beginning to a birding year. I have seen 121 species in two short winter months. When spring cracks open like an egg, and the bright yolk of sun rises higher in the sky, I will have an opportunity to find more of what I am seeking. This is my biggest year, a year where I will see more species of bird than I ever have during the span of 12 months, and a year where I will learn to exist peacefully with all of them.

In a great instructional writing book, Anne Lamott recalls a story of her 10 year old brother overcoming a seemingly insurmountable task. He needed to finish a report on birds that was due the following day, and he hadn’t yet started. Faced with such an overwhelming project, he was near the point of collapse when their father sat him down and said “Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.”

There is no reason for me to be grief-stricken when I see a bird. It is time for me to grow, both as a birder, and as a man. It’s been a long and difficult process, but this year, I’m taking it bird by bird.