More from the Big Year
Part 2: The longer you sit, the more that arises
Note: This is part 2 of my exploration of the Big Year I undertook with my son (you can read part 1 here). I learned the concept of the Sit Spot from Jon Young, the author of “What the Robin Knows,” and a student of Tom Brown, Jr. He reminded me that the longer I stay still and find a deeper peace within myself, the more the birds will respond and show themselves. The longer I sat with this piece the more that arose, and I hope dear readers that you enjoy it as much as I did living it and writing about it. Thank you for a great 2024!
The Quiet Fisherfolk
Near the end of our six month journey we made a last push to go see my wife’s family roots. We visited the Amish community in Indiana where her grandparents resided and saw the beautiful front porch her grandmother would sing from. We also stopped in a small town in Ohio where her other grandparents resided and saw the church her grandfather founded. It was a special treat and really grounded us more deeply as a family.
We decided to stick around Ohio for a while and found a small city park on the Miami River that permitted camping. The surrounding bike trails were epic and the river was magical. One early morning I took a walk in the woods along the peaceful river. I watched Kingfishers play and witnessed a Bald Eagle preening itself high up in a tree. As I lost myself once more in awe, I spotted a distant fisherman, the only other human around and it brought back special moments with my Dad as a child fishing and playing together. When I looked down river I noticed a Great Blue Heron patiently awaiting its breakfast. As I took it all in and my field of vision widened, I saw another a short distance away pondering existence in the clear, cool river waters. It was such a deep and special impression.
The Kindness of Birders
One of our favorite stops in our travels was Kiptopeke State Park at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay in southeastern Virginia. It is the spot where I had the magical encounter with the Chuck’s-will-widow. We decided to have a camping beach week with the whole family in the middle of September. What a delight to play with children, grandchildren and elders together in such a sweet spot. It also mystically coincided with the park’s annual Hawkwatch.
I was shy at first, introducing myself but not feeling worthy of these pros. I also felt like I could easily get lost in the joy and miss connecting with family. But as the week went along and I settled into a beautiful rhythm I overcame my shyness and came to a deeper understanding of how my joy was a boon to everyone. So the last couple of mornings I spent spotting raptors with volunteer birders from all over the state. They were sweet, passionate, and loved sharing knowledge and stories. We counted 100 or more raptors in my short time including four that I had not yet seen that year and two to add to my life list - Cooper’s Hawks, American Kestrels, Merlins and Northern Harriers. Every time I returned to camp after one of these sessions I would gush, I am truly hooked!
Hoo is There?
Speaking of birds of prey, for about a month it felt like we were being followed by a Barred Owl. It started when we arrived at our first stop in Florida in April. I could feel the presence of an owl, it was such a strange sensation. I told my son that I would not at all be surprised if an owl landed on our RV and called to us tonight and 20 minutes later as we settled into sleep an owl landed in the canopy above us and began to sing. We heard the owl night after night for weeks as we traveled around northern Florida, though never saw her.
Right after my birthday we headed down to central Florida to meet our kids and grandkids. One night we stopped at a boondocking site called Alligator Lake. When we turned off the engine and stepped outside there was incredible energy in the air with all kinds of peepers and crickets and honestly who knows what singing the loudest medley from the lake and surrounding marsh. We decided to walk out among the symphony on a long dock that went out onto the lake. As we arrived at the beginning of the boardwalk, who was sitting on top of the information sign - a big and beautiful Barred Owl. If I had to guess it was the one we had been hearing for weeks. She sat and watched us for a while and then majestically flew off and disappeared back into the night.
Our First Bird Festival
At the end of April we left sunny Florida and Georgia to head back north and took a short detour home to attend the Blue Wall Bird Festival at Table Rock State Park in the Upstate of South Carolina. Mama headed home and Darcy and I took a deep dive into the world of birding. For three days we woke at the crack of dawn to adventure with experienced, kind and passionate birders that welcomed our “young” fresh eyes to the walks. Our job was to softly yell “bird!” when we spotted one and the others would identify them. Over the course of three days we added somewhere around 50 birds to our Big Year list and many of which were new life listers.
What a joy it was on day one to see a Yellow-breasted Chat, Orchard Oriole, Indigo Buntings and Blue Grosbeaks as well as numerous warblers from Black and White to Black-throated Blues to Magnolias and Wilson’s. And the next day not only did we add a dozen more warblers but spotted Waterthrushes, called “bird!” on a number of pine cones, and had a spectacular chase to see a Worm-eating Warbler, and a bushwacked far off trail to see an Acadian Flycatcher.
The birders were so patient and warm and welcoming and loved sharing knowledge, it really was a wonderful experience. Taking the time together to bond and go deep in the experience of birding with such wonderful people really was one of the big highlights of the year. We hope to go back to the festival every year!
A Private Concert
I don’t know about where you are, but for me, for a significant portion of Spring and Summer, the song of the Red-eyed Vireo is omnipresent. It can be so loud sometimes that they drown out the sound of other nearby birds. There were times when I was trying to listen that it would drive me mad. Thankfully, I came to realize that these little ones just have a lot to say and I found gratitude for their songs.
The Red-eyed are not the only variety and each type of vireo has a special song and a different approach than its perpetually stoned cousin. On one enchanted afternoon at the very beginning of Spring right before we hit the road, Darcy and I took a walk in the woods behind the house. We went up to one of our favorite spots, what we call Pew Rock because it looks like a long stone bench. While we sat and soaked up the sun, a cute little bird landed on a branch right above our heads and started singing the sweetest of songs. He crooned for 15 minutes as the two of us listened, lost in the pure majesty of the song. Afterwards, with the help of Merlin, we discovered it was the Blue-headed Vireo that shared its song with us. I will never forget how that song lit up my whole being. I hope he found a mate!
The Comfort of Corvids
I stole the title for this section from one of my favorite reads of 2024, “The Comfort of Crows,” by Margaret Renkl. I highly recommend it. She spends a year witnessing nature in her backyard on the edge of suburbia and her observations intertwine with her own personal memoir, reflections on the state of the world and praise songs for common birds and plants and wildlife. One of the birds prominently featured is the Crow, which is such a wonderful bird to get lost in.
I love corvids of all types and got to see four different types of Jays this year (Blue Jay, Florida Scrub Jay, Stellar Jay and Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay). I also love how no matter where you are you can almost guarantee seeing a crow, typically the American variety, but we saw a lot of Fish Crows this year as well. And I discovered that Ravens were my son’s favorite. When we were at the Blue Wall Bird Festival, one of our amazing guides taught us how to tell the difference between Ravens and Crows. Listening for and watching Ravens in action became one of our favorite activities. On a particularly quiet bird walk in Ohio, my son saw a bird soaring by and confidently stated that it was a Raven and told me that it might just be his favorite bird. Sure enough, he was right. And because of that shared love, now it's one of my favorites too!
The Need for Speed
It is ridiculously fun to watch Swallows speeding about by the water or cliffs or in fields with old barns or in forests. And it takes a little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck and patience to capture a good photo when they are whipping about. We managed it twice and every time I look at the picture of the Barn Swallows, my heart soars at the speed they are usually moving at.
Songs without Sight
The Barred Owl wasn’t the only bird that we heard all of the time but rarely saw. Everywhere that we went from early Spring through late Summer, we heard the melodic song of Ovenbirds. On so many walks we heard a half a dozen or more as we traveled through the woods. Nowhere was that more prevalent than an amazing week spent in the Allegheny Mountains in Pennsylvania. I spotted one early in our trip, but the Ovenbirds haunted Darcy. It got to the point that he felt like they were mocking him. To this day, I still don’t think he has seen one.
The others were Brown Creepers. They too seemed to be everywhere, yet we never spotted one. The two of us did a solo trip to Central New York and when we were camping at Watkins Glen State Park we had one that was taunting us. There happened to also be a few White-breasted and maybe Brown-headed Nuthatches out and so we would scream “There!” and then look closer in the binoculars and notice it was a nuthatch. After about 20 minutes, we gave up. It wasn’t until I took a solo bike ride in Maine and had one land right on the tree above me, did I see the first Creeper of the year. I may have been more elated about that little guy than almost anything else I saw this year.
My Other Spirit Animal is a Wren
I mentioned at the beginning that Woodpeckers may be my totem animal. Well, the other most likely candidate is Wren. I love them all, and most especially the Carolina Wren. They were everywhere we traveled east of the Mississippi and every time I hear their songs, my heart soars. There are quite a few that live in the woods around me and they often make nests in strange places at my house.
This past week, I awoke early from a dream and swore that the bird I heard singing in my dream was inside the house. I leaped out of bed and went into the living room, and lo and behold, a Carolina Wren had managed to push open the back door and come in. She couldn't figure out how to get back outside, so I helped her out the door. And earlier this summer, I fell asleep under a tree and had a mystical dream in which a Wren guided me out of a cave and when I woke up, one was standing on a branch above me watching me. These sweet little birds with such big songs are truly special.
Out of Thin Air
I am convinced that when you really love and respect animals, especially birds, from time to time they honor that love with their pure presence. Twice this year, I had rare and magical birds seemingly spring out of thin air or more accurately pop out of bushes to say hi.
The first was in North Florida. My wife and son were tubing with Manatees on the Ichetucknee River. My dog Bonnie and I were watching birds while awaiting them at the take out. I was lost in the hunt for Summer and Scarlet Tanagers that I heard singing somewhere above me. I followed them to the edge of the parking lot when I heard an unfamiliar song. And then out of a small grove of longleaf pine I saw the bird that was singing this song and I was shocked to learn it was a Bachman’s Sparrow, which is a bird I assumed I would probably never see. What a treat!
The second was on an early morning in New York. I wrote all about it in one of my favorite pieces, “A Bird in the Bush.” Here is the description:
“I slowly circled the field completely immersed in the majesty of aliveness. Through the wonder of it all, an unfamiliar song caught my attention. I felt called to witness this magnificent being. All of my senses cracked wide open as I stared at a dense bush teeming with verdant growth from which the sound was emanating. Suddenly an unfamiliar thrush emerged to say “hi.”
We locked eyes and hearts and maybe souls as I/we experienced the unity of all being. We just took each other in for what seemed like an eternity. And then time unfroze as we each returned to our own selves again and went along with our day. He was a Swainson’s Thrush and was truly magical.”
I Am In Love With The Art Teacher
One of the most magical days on our travels together as a family this year was sitting in a pavilion overlooking Keuka Lake in Central New York. My extremely talented wife offered to teach my son and I how to paint with watercolors. We both love art and especially drawing and painting, though neither of us had worked with watercolors. So she lovingly and patiently walked us through the basics. We each picked a subject and dove in. My son painted a rat that detonated bombs that he had just read about. I, unsurprisingly, chose a bird. For my first, I decided to paint a Hermit Thrush. It was so much fun. I would not call it a masterpiece but I was filled with such deep love and joy that I never stopped and have been regularly painting birds since. I already know that it will be a lifelong passion and it is one of the finest gifts that my wife has given me.
One of the coolest parts about painting birds is that after I am done, I cut them out and paste them into a bird book dedicated to Darcy and I’s journey with birds. A strange phenomenon that I have noticed is that once I paint the bird and add it to the book, they start showing up everywhere, sometimes even where they should not be. I saw more Hermit Thrushes this year than I have seen in total my entire life. And, this Fall, I was shocked to discover that a Hermit Thrush may have taken up winter residence at my house. I have seen or heard him every day for nearly two weeks.
Posing for the Camera
Two years ago I bought a nice camera to take with me on a trip to chase Crested Caracaras in Florida. I had just finished “A Most Remarkable Creature” by Jonathan Meiburg and was obsessed. I figured if I was going to go on a wild hunt to find this magical bird, I should have a proper camera to photograph it with. I took a lot of beautiful photos with that camera, yet ironically, the one time I finally caught up to the Caracara on my last day in Florida, I only had my cell phone. It didn’t matter because the images will always be crystal clear in my mind’s eye.
I rarely picked up the camera after that trip and so when Darcy expressed an interest, I was happy to set him up with the camera. He is a true artist and so he quickly developed a knack for it and snapped a bunch of great photos, many of which I am including in this series. My favorite was when we spent the night at a beautiful farm outside of Oneonta in New York. We got up early and went out hunting for Bobolinks and whatever else we could spot. Walking amongst the fields and old barns was a treat. We saw a lot of Barn Swallows, the Bobolinks we were after, Pigeons and Crows. We crossed a large field and heard a beautiful song that was new to us both and Merlin let us know it was a Chestnut-sided Warbler. For what seemed like 20 minutes we scanned the canopy looking for that sweet little singer. I finally spotted him and then Darcy went to work. He worked that bird like he was the Paparazzi and his Papa could not have been prouder. His photographs were absolutely amazing and when he looked at the shots later he beamed with delight. It was one of my favorite moments of the trip to share in that joy.
The Heart of Birding
On our family beach trip to Kiptopeke State Park this year, the Hawkwatch wasn’t the only special birding moment. There was one moment that I will treasure more than almost any this year. My wife’s oldest daughter, Persephone, always seemed curious as to what drew me to birdwatching. When she asked me if we could go out some morning that week I was touched and so after a couple days, we made it happen.
There are some amazing trails with bird names all throughout the park and so I took her on the route that I thought would most guarantee a good variety of birds. We were so lost in conversation that we didn’t seem to mind that we were not spotting a lot of different species. In fact we mostly saw common birds that we could see at home in the mountains, but sharing time together was all that mattered.
Eventually, we came to a short boardwalk that went out to the beach called Peregrine Boardwalk. The wooden path led through the woods and out to the beach. In the thickest and darkest part of the walk I heard the call of a Summer Tanager, and wanting her to see something special we stopped and scanned and listened. While we were listening and looking she shared a memory with me that was so beautiful and heartbreaking. As the tears ran down my cheek like a soft summer rain we held each other's gaze.
I felt so honored that she shared with me and that our relationship had grown in trust. It's hard to truly relate what new to Fatherhood at almost 50 feels like and what each crack with all of the kids does to my heart. I have experienced that with each of Natalie’s kids and every moment means the world to me.
The female Summer Tanager emerged from the dense thicket and we cackled with glee. That golden ray of sunshine matched the glow that I was feeling in my heart.
A Beautiful Big Year
My Big Year is one that I will always treasure. It was a year in which I deepened not only my knowledge and relationships with nature and birds, but also all of the people in my life. I could write a sappy ending because that is how I feel right now, but instead I will describe a beautiful day in my life that epitomizes what it feels like to share something special with people you love.
One morning when we were camping at Keuka Lake in New York, Darcy and I were slowly waking into the day. We were feeling particularly silly and giggly and there was a lightness in our hearts. As we chatted about whatever was in our heads we could hear the quiet chirps of some baby birds nearby. At that point in the week, the campground was nearly empty so we crept into the campsite next to us and peered into the trees and we were greeted by the tiniest little Common Yellowthroat with its sweet little mask. It had no fear and just moved closer and kept chirping and flittering about. Its sweetness matched our moods and it really felt like birds matched your vibration. Every time I think about that sweet little baby bird face I am grateful for the amazing birding journey we had this year and feel so blessed.
May every year be a Big Year for you filled with connection, nature and love.
Great piece, Scot. Sounds like you had a fantastic big year. I enjoyed some relatable elements: noticing the kindness of other birders, the omnipresence of the Red-eyed Vireo's song, elusive Brown Creepers, and the way your year revealed itself to be about more than birds. Thank you for writing & sharing.
What a magical year! You are so lucky to have a young one to share your passion for birding with. I fear I will never see a Bachman’s Sparrow and now I’m thinking maybe I should follow your cue and draw one in my journal before I venture south this year to look for one.