Undercover birder

I’ve never considered myself a birder. I mean birders wear funny hats, sport numerous pairs of binoculars, expensive digital cameras with massive lenses and drive Subarus, which they insist on parking haphazardly just off the highway when they’ve spotted a rare bird off in a meadow. At least that would be a description of some of the birders I’ve seen here in Harney County during the migratory bird season.

However, since we’ve moved to the country, I find myself bird watching quite a bit. We live near a creek that attracts many different kinds of water fowl. I inexplicitly find myself looking up unfamiliar birds in books and looking through the binoculars to see if I can identify color patterns and feathers. White egrets look like ghosts gliding through the sky, while the Blue Heron seems more like a prehistoric throwback with its startling call.

This summer we had the pleasure of watching a mama Mallard successfully usher 10 little ones from ducklings to ducks. We’ve had several owl and hawk sightings (some of which have scared L’il E half out of his pants as we were walking along the road).

Four pelicans called the creek home for a while this summer. I had no idea they were so huge. But despite their awkward proportions, they move quite gracefully in the water. Hummingbirds were also frequent visitors this past summer, with as many as 10 buzzing a little feeder we put out.

Right now California quail call this area home and grebes have dominated the creek landscape for the last few weeks. L’il E and I were outside at dusk one night when I heard some unfamiliar bird calls getting nearer and nearer. We both looked up just in time to see a group of about 12 swans sail overhead. It was one of those moments that I was certain would not have happened if we lived in town and reminded me that nature can be filled with a wild grace for those who open themselves to seeing it. Maybe I’ll become a birder yet.