In May of this year, I decided to mark something off of my bucket list. Go birding. Like REAL birding. Not the lazy, fill your feeders, sit by the window with your morning cup of coffee kind of birding. Official birding. Like the kind that Owen Wilson, Steve Martin and Jack Black do in the movie, The Big Year. Which by the way, is quite phenomenal.
I have known for years that Lake Erie was famous for it’s birding sites and during the migration in spring boasts an incredible diversity of species as the little birds who overwintered in Central and South America make their way north seeking more temperate climates. There are plenty of podcasts and message boards to follow if you are looking for a rare snowy owl or a bird that’s simply gotten a little off track on their migratory path. But, I’ve never had the opportunity to pack up and leave at whim to catch a glimpse. That said, The Biggest Week in American Birding was coming up in May and well, I decided I was going.
I found an AirBNB in Port Clinton, OH, about 20-minutes from Magee Marsh. Admittedly, I did less research than normal when planning for something like this, but I have learned over recent years that sometimes it’s better to just follow the wind, and so follow I did. Asking locals for their recommendations and being able to flex when neccessary has led me to some amazing experiences that I wouldn’t have stumbled upon had I not trusted the experts. So, I found a podcast to listen to on my way and headed up to Maumee Bay Conference Center, just east of Toledo, to officially register.
Upon registration, I quickly decided that my gear was not up-to-par. There were vendors set up and my $60 binoculars simply looked pathetic next to the fancy ones they were selling, so I splurged for a cheaper pair at $200 with award-winning lenses. I picked up a couple quick-reference warbler guides and then signed up for a chance to win a Netvue Birdify Feeder which I found out a couple weeks later that I actually won. Listen people, I never win anything and this was exciting. The bougiest of bird feeders and it was ALL MINE. Let a girl celebrate, ok?
But, I digress.
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I wasn’t always a morning person. My mom says I used to be a champion sleeper, but as of the last few years, early mornings have become a time for ME. I try to stack a few healthy habits before the world wakes up. Bible and book reading, Spanish lessons, writing, meditations, playing guitar. All things that I can be mindful and focused on and that set my internal tone for the day. I have found that if I don’t do these things first, I feel less settled during my day. So, in proper form, I decided to hit the Magee Marsh boardwalk before the flock of birders (pun definitely intended). I had my mind set on waking up at 5AM and heading over.
Once I arrived, I drove back through a few miles of wetland nestled under the shadow of the David-Besse Nuclear Power Station. An ominous site for sure, but also a clean energy alternative with zero-emissions as it releases steam from the heat formed by splitting uranium atoms using fission. I would have loved to be a fly-on-the-wall when that theory was proven. From a very very safe distance, of course.
I wound my way to the back of the park and was happy to find a rather empty parking lot and the entrance to a boardwalk. I had no idea what to expect. What’s cool about this boardwalk is that it’s relatively unassuming. To a person with no interest in birding, you could walk the 1-mile and see the dense forest and underbrush of the surrounding wetlands and nothing else. But, as soon as you stop and listen the sounds draw your attention to the small birds called warblers that have made this place so famous that 90,000 people visit it during the 10-day festival every year. Yes, I said 90,000.
I love people, but I was good with my early morning plan so as to avoid 90,000 people with their birding scopes on this tiny path. By the time my hour of relatively uninterrupted birding was done, they were making their way in droves. Think Star Wars and lightsabers, but insert 2-3 foot zoom eyepieces and a lot of camouflage. These people take their birding SERIOUSLY. And let me tell you, they know their stuff.
The thing about warblers is, they are tiny and they all look the same. Well, not really, but for the untrained eye (and ear), it can be very hard to determine what it is you are looking at. In general, the first rule in birding is listen. My first rule however, is to find the person who knows what they are listening to. From the get-go, I would gently stalk a birder who clearly knew what they were doing and then humbly ask—“What is that?” What I love about birders the most, is their care for others. Each person I asked was excited to share what they knew and they were genuine about it. In that first hour, I knocked off 10 species of birds that I had never seen before—to include the second tiniest of owls—an Eastern Screech Owl. I can’t quite explain the appreciation and awe I felt for the total experience, but I would simply say, it rekindled my faith in humans. The community genuinely loves what they do. It brings them joy, and they share in an effort to bring the same to others. A novel idea in a world that wants us to stay in our respective “boxes.”
Maybe the path to world peace is found somewhere along a shared birding trail?
After leaving Magee Marsh, I headed towards Marblehead, OH. The festival had over 12 locations to enjoy birding and I appreciated that with each stop I was experiencing the extremely biodiverse landscape that Ohio has to offer. From wetlands, to dense forests, to prairie to water’s edge locations, each presented itself uniquely. I don’t quite understand the “Only In Ohio” jokes on social media that seem to mock our fine state, but having traveled extensively here and throughout 47 other states—I can only chalk it up to ignorance. Simply put, OHIO IS STUNNING. Our quaint coastal region puts to shame any overcrowded East Coast beach/tourist-trap any day! In my humble opinion, of course.
By the end of the two days, I had visited 6 different birding sites and knocked off at least 20 new species of birds. By day two, I was actually identifying warblers on my own and then helping others to get a glimpse too. I was probably prouder than I should have been when at Ottawa National Wildlife Reserve, I found a handful of chestnut-sided warblers and properly identified them without the help of my handy dandy guide. It’s the little things—literally.
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Let me just say, The Biggest Week In American Birding has not been on my bucket-list for long. I became interested in birds about 15 years ago, and my zeal for the hobby has come and gone with my responsibilities of raising my children and working full-time. There have been full seasons when my feeders have been left unattended. I used to make it a point to gift the Kaufman’s Field Guide to North American Birds, but even that habit has stopped in recent years. I remember my parents joking with me at one point and asking, “So Evan, what is left to do for fun when you get old?” As an aside, it should be noted that my parents are also fellow bird nerds now, so my master plan worked just as intended (wink, wink).
No, I haven’t always been a bird nerd. If you had asked me as a teenager if this would have been “my thing,” I would have thoroughly denied it. But as I’ve grown older, I have learned to appreciate the magic of nature and the beauty of God’s hand in it. “The ultimate artist,” I love the thought that when He was creating it all, He had us in mind. I am both humbled and awestruck each time I find myself in nature, listening and looking for that flash of color flitting from tree branch to tree branch, an early spring wildflower, the eerie hooting of an owl and fireflies in late June. Each time I see something new, I am reminded that there is so much to explore and so much more to learn.
“Wonder fuels our passion for exploration and learning, for curiosity and adventure”
-Brene´Brown, Atlas of the Heart
I’ve been considering the journey these warblers and other birds make—not once, but twice every single year—traveling from South America to North America and back. An amazing 5,000 miles at 12,000 feet above sea level. How do they know where to go? How do they know where to stop and refuel? How do they use the earth’s magnetism, the stars and the sun to guide them. And how—year-after-year—that same tiny bird that stopped at your feeder on its original journey has returned to greet you, rest and refuel once again.
I don’t know about you, but that’s more than enough a reason to stay curious.
Love and light (from one bird nerd to another),
Ev
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“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the source of our strength.”
-Rachel Carson, The Sense of Wonder: A Celebration of Nature for Parents and Children