Tuesday was a birdy day for me since I counted birds while doing errands in New Hampshire, and then came home and took a walk down to the bog. It has been a week since I counted birds here and I wanted to see what was happening.
It is a warm and calm evening as I arrive at the edge of the bog in full birding regalia with my vest over my shirt, my birding hat on, camera at my side and binoculars on a harness around my chest. I am lost in the world of birds, scanning water, sky and brush, listening to the cacophony of blackbirds as they prepare to settle in for the night. Suddenly a different sound permeates my brain in spite of the clacks, clicks and whistles of grackles and red-winged blackbirds. It is a voice soft and sweet with the high thin notes of a pre-pubescent child. The voice does not sound mean or mocking, but rather, In a sing-song voice this is what I heard: “Bird watcher, bird, bird watcher. Bird watcher, bird, bird watcher!” as I stand there and listen I slowly turn and look over my shoulder. In the field behind me and across the road I se three young boys playing catch with a baseball and gloves. I do not know which one was singing, but I smile to myself and turn back to my birds all aglow. I’ll take that label any day! Birdwatcher I am!
So…I am not just a Birdwatcher, I am also a Wildlife Watcher as well!