Birding–a step toward immanence
Sunday, April 13th, 2008I have been an amateur birdwatcher since my days in Borneo in the Peace Corps. Characteristically, a morning of bird-watching consists of getting up early, then going out and standing someplace and letting the birds come by. There may be a bit of walking involved.
I had originally thought of suggesting that bird-watching is a kind of walking meditation, but it really isn’t. It’s more a kind of waiting meditation. I wander about until I find a place where there are indications of bird life–calls, rustles in the undergrowth, or even, a quick glimpse. Then I stop, and do my best imitation of a tree. There have been times when I have stood in one place for 20 minutes, hardly daring to breathe, in order to spot a shy bird.
And the point isn’t that it’s necessarily a rare bird, or one that I could add to my “life list” [the list of bird species that I’ve ever seen in the wild]. For example, after brunch today, I went to the arboretum in Golden Gate park. It’s a beautiful spot, and one that I have visited many times. In addition, on the first Sunday of the month, the local Audobon Society organizes a birdwatching walk. The trick is that they get to go in 2 hours before the arboretum opens, so the place is deserted.
Today, there were people everywhere. I was a bit disappointed. I had been hoping to be able to wander about, and, perhaps, see something unusual. But no. Apparently, all the birds were sufficiently terrified by the people that they were keeping to themselves. And really, birds tend to take a midday siesta, as should all sensible persons [excepting us “mad dogs and Englishmen”].
I continued to wander around the park, getting grumpier and grumpier.
Then, I found a spot where, for the moment, there was no one else. Imagine my surprise when two California quail scurried out of the brush. They ran forward a bit, and tussled with each other for a moment, then ran back the other way. During this whole episode, someone could have come up to me and tapped me on the shoulder, and I wouldn’t have seen it coming. I was so rapt by the sight that I was outside the usual universe.
I believe that most birders have these moments–and not all in the process of looking for rarest birds. [See Sam Keen “Sightings: Unusual Encounters with Common Birds”.]
It is these moments of just being, not doing, that provide a certain balance to my life.
Bob