The Magic Bird World

The podcast didn't help. The birds did.

A few days before my first bird walk with the Pasadena Audubon Society, I listened to a podcast on how to use binoculars. Novel attempt, nice try. It didn't help.

There were a lot of people there and it was early with a typical June gloom making it very comfortable. I had one friend in the group who had a few more friends. I will say, it’s nice to know people but I don’t think people go there to socialize.

I am more confident now in some of my nature knowledge. I can identify plants - a lot of them, and that feels good. I have learned a lot about that part of the natural world. I can share that. But, here in this bird world, it’s all new again.

It is strangely social as we all are on the same journey, together yet solo. We are looking at the same thing, yet through different eyes. The experience would be different if I were alone. I love the guidance. At the same time, I like the ability to control my own journey. Together yet separate.

We started our walk on the familiar Hahamongna trail. The leader was pointing out birds continuously. I couldn’t see any of them. I loved hearing the songs and calls of the birds but was disappointed to see nothing. My friend caught up with me after the first few minutes and said, “0-10.” Such relief that someone more experienced than me was sharing my struggle.

I was finally getting the binoculars to work well and feel comfortable. As we went further I was still having trouble but kept to myself, listening to the leader and hoping. Yes hoping for success.

Turning point.

I am not sure what happened. Maybe I got better with using the binoculars. Maybe I was just lucky. But at some point something clicked — I found my way with them, got more comfortable, and then suddenly I was seeing what everyone was talking about. And when I did — wow. Just that. Wow.

The other people, everything extraneous seemed to vanish. I became a part of the sky above me engulfed in its capacity. Again a brief escape from the grind of the world into the magic bird world. There is to me a remarkable transition that occurs when I immerse myself into the world of the birds. It is so captivating to see close up, through the wonder of binoculars, these beautiful creatures.

I felt like I should jump for joy but that would have been super awkward in this group so I just continued and acted like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing, and knew what I was doing.

The colors amaze - one could never see or notice this without the help of binoculars. We are drawn to look up — to the sky which has no boundaries. It is as if one has entered an amusement park ride where you go to a boundless space above with no beginning and no end. How far can we see? How does that feel?

This world connects to me also, not just for its beauty but that the birds are music. Where music and nature meet. An enchanted world.

Then one cannot forget about the calls, the songs. The unique, beautiful music of nature. Its clear precision speaks to this former singer’s heart. So simple, so calm and so easy. I notice the tune, the rhythm — what distinguishes one call from another. I can't yet name who is singing, but others there could. What I can hear is the clarity and continuity of it — nothing ragged, nothing wasted. Perfectly in tune! Nature's music, performed without effort or audience. Pristine.

As I do this more, I will be able to define it better. It is for me a better place. I let go of the worries and the weights that ground me. This disconnect became more obvious to me when I reentered the world. Disappointed briefly that I had to come back to reality.

Birding takes the beauty of the trail and merges it with other sensory experiences, both sight and sound. It’s not for everyone as it requires quiet, patience and persistence. For me, I am finding that it is a good cure for what ails us.