Welcome back to the Entryway to Birding blog! Mid-February had us in what felt like a polar vortex and now, suddenly, spring feels closer than ever. Those of us who've been living in the Midwest for awhile know we're not done with winter just yet—"false spring" can't fool us!—but it sure has been nice to feel the sun and hear the sounds of spring in the air.
Those sounds of spring are what have inspired this week's entry. I'm not sure what you've been hearing, but northern cardinals, black-capped chickadees, and house finches are singing up a storm in my neighborhood. I've also noticed a lot of frenetic activity among woodpeckers and white-breasted nuthatches— species that are courting and mating right now.
While winter has its own joys, the frenzy of activity that comes with warmer weather is a delight. It poses the perfect opportunity to make birding your new hobby this season—even if you don't have binoculars! This week's Entryway to Birding blog is stepping outside—no gear, no bins, no nothing (well, except a few layers and some boots that can handle this wintery-spring slush!)—to see what we can find.
Let's go!
A wintery yet springy evening at Aldo Leopold Nature Center in Monona. This is a fun spot to visit, since Edna Taylor Conservancy is just next door. The variety of habitat—woods, marsh, prairie, and more—make either of these locations a great spot to begin your birding adventures. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
A Note to the Bird-Curious
If you've felt intimidated by the idea of birding, you're not alone. There's a lot that gets bound up in "birding"—a whole culture of list-keeping, of identifying birds, of learning all the birds in your area. It's a lot. This blog got started to help guide people through all the confusing quirks of the hobby, but I've been feeling like I could do a better job of emphasizing a very important message.
And that message is: You don't have to do those things.
Yeah, you heard me. You don't have to keep a life list. You don't have to identify the birds you see. You don't have to study up on all our state's species. You don't have to learn bird songs and calls. You don't have to buy binoculars. Or a camera. Or a scope. You can bird your way—whatever that way is.
Birds are for everybody to enjoy. And birding is, at its heart, a hobby that gets people outside and awed by nature.
You don't need binoculars for that.
How to Bird Without Binoculars
There’s no right or wrong way to bird—so much of the magic of this hobby is how endlessly adaptable it is. But if you’re just starting out and want some advice to make the most of your bird-seeking experience, I’ve got three simple tips for you:
Tip #1: Choose Your Location Strategically
While I love wide open spaces, they may not be the best place to start your bin-less birding adventures. You're likely to find the most satisfaction in areas with more cover where you can put yourself close to the birds. If you've got a backyard with trees or bushes, that's honestly a nice start. But if you don't, a handy rule of thumb is to rely on that good ol' "edge habitat," where two or more habitats converge.
When I ventured out this past Saturday, I went to Edna Taylor Conservancy. There's a path that runs along a creek where you've got water (partially frozen), trees, marshy areas, and lots of brush lining the path.
It was a literal flurry of activity as birds darted from the edges of the creek where there was open water, to the brush, to the trees, and back. The path ran between all this, so the spot that I chose to linger felt like it was in the hubbub of activity.
To get started, go for a walk, go for a hike. Find yourself a spot like that. And then ...
Did I think to take a picture of the super birdy path while I was at Edna Taylor? No, I was too distracted by the birds. Here's a photo of an equally delightful and birdy path at the Aldo Leopold Nature Center next door. Three downy woodpeckers—yes three!—were chasing each other in the trees on the left, close enough that I could see their small little bills. A dark-eyed junco—that I recognized only by the quick flashes of white on the edges of its tail feathers in flight—dove into the grasses as I went by. And in the wide open space above me, a raptor soared. The sunlight hit it just right so that I could tell—even without binoculars—that it was a red-tailed hawk. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
Tip #2: Be Still, Be Slow
The best bin-less birding is mostly stationary. (I mean, it doesn't have to be. You do you!) But you'll find that if you slow down and just stand and wait and wait and wait ... the birds will forget you're there.
Last summer, I was waiting patiently for birds at Pheasant Branch Creek Corridor—another excellent spot to be surrounded by birdy habitat!—and happened to notice this raccoon emerging from a tree. Watching him scurry down, face first, was a delight. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
You might remember how well this strategy can pay off from one of our blogs last summer on slow birding. Taking the time to immerse yourself in a scene, to take in all the sights and sounds of the moment ... that alone is a special treat. Even if you don't notice any birds, you might be able to watch a squirrel retrieve something from its cache. Maybe a curious opossum will poke out to investigate. Heck, maybe you'll even see a mouse or vole! You never know, unless you wait.
As I stood on this path at Edna Taylor, I could get great views of black-capped chickadees, dark-eyed juncos, and American tree sparrows as they foraged—mostly low on the ground or just below eye level. White-breasted nuthatches climbed up, down, and around the bark of trees, while a little downy woodpecker pecked away.
I happened to already know how to identify the birds I was seeing, but you might not. That is okay. Knowing the identity of a bird isn’t necessary to appreciate to it, to enjoy it, to be awed by it.
A bird is a bird—a sign of life, of wildness, of wonder that is living out its existence in a world that is also our own.
So if you find a flock, bask in the joy of that flurry of life. And then ...
Tip #3: Follow That Bird!
Well, not literally. Please don't chase it. Follow it with your eyes—or your ears!
Birding without binoculars is an excellent opportunity to shift your attention from thinking just about what the bird looks like. Birding has a tendency to get so hyper-focused on making an identification that we overlook some of the more interesting, curious things that birds may be up to.
So find a bird and follow it. Maybe you pick a bird you recognize, maybe you pick one you don't. Either way, you'll either learn something new about a species you know, or you'll have more clues to help you identify a species you don't, should you get curious to look it up.
Let's say you follow a black-capped chickadee. It's a good choice—they're not shy. They're also busy, frenetic foragers who can be an absolute hoot to watch. They're charismatic, vocal, and ready to set off a series of raspy "dee dee dees" towards anyone or thing they wanna warn their friends about.
This black-capped chickadee was pulling the fluff of out of cattails at the UW-Arboretum. I took this photo last year, but I remember standing and watching this bird—who was quite close!—just pluck and pluck and pluck away, from each and every angle it could manage. Don't brush them off as a "common" bird—each and every behavior tells you something more about them. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
As you listen to chickadees, you might hear them make many, many calls—they pip, they squeak, they gurgle, they dee. Take in their repertoire and the sound of them in a flock—it will likely become a familiar (and desirable!) noise for you later on. When more songbirds start to return—like those colorful little warblers—you'll find that they and chickadees will often flock together. It’s kind of like chickadees are those friends at a party that will you introduce you to other folks when you don’t know anyone else—and gosh, I love them for that.
I’ve got so many ridiculous pictures of chickadees foraging in weird positions. This was from last fall at Devil’s Lake. If you haven’t spent time just watching them eat, give it a go—I guarantee they’ll bring some joy to your day. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
Watching the ones at Edna Taylor, I started to wonder, what exactly is he/she eating? Bugs? Seeds? Or both? I noticed the chickadee I was focusing on would forage between the cracks of bark on a tree, but also hop down low in the grasses, clinging to seed heads of now-dried plants, then picking some material, too, from among the leaf litter. But what exactly was it getting from the bark? From the leaves? I'm still not sure—but I've now got something to learn more about.
Curiosity drives us. So follow a bird and see where it takes you!
The Next Steps are Yours
You might find yourself satisfied by being in the presence of birds, by being outside, by discovering a new little corner of a place you thought you knew. And maybe that’s it. That’s birding, after all.
You might find yourself pulled in the direction of wanting to know more, of asking “Who is that?”, of letting your curiosity spur your search for bird knowledge. Maybe you start dabbling in making some identifications. That’s birding too.
You can push this hobby as far or as little as you like—because how you bird is how you bird. It doesn’t have to be how anyone else birds. It doesn’t have to come with a commitment—all this hobby asks of you is respect for the world around you, the world we share with birds.
Challenge Yourself: Leave the Gear At Home
To all my readers who may already own binoculars and feel very, very attached to them ... I challenge you to leave them at home. Just try it. Just for a day. Leave the camera too. And the scope. Bird naked. (Metaphorically, please!)
If you're like me, the thought of ditching your binoculars might strike a little fear in your heart. Take it as a sign that you've perhaps grown a bit too dependent on them. Birding without them is, in many ways, more difficult—but also more rewarding since it leaves room for so much more that you might learn and discover.
Maybe you'll refine your birding by ear skills.
Maybe you'll get sharper at picking out slight signs of movement among the branches and spotting birds—something we often do without our binoculars anyway.
Maybe you'll notice a new bird behavior that you can look for in the future.
Maybe you'll be inspired by some unique fungi and find yourself starting a new hobby.
When we slow down in these moments, we open ourselves to the world with a curious mind, and we may walk away learning something new, seeing something new, hearing something new, asking new questions. The possibilities are endless. Give it a try—and let me know how it goes! Leave a comment below with something you noticed about your experience.
Signs of spring emerge at Big Spring at the UW-Arboretum. This is another great destination for beginning birders to visit and linger at. If you were to flip around from this view, you’d be facing Wingra Woods. The Arboretum, in general, is a great destination for birding—bin-less or not. Photo by Caitlyn Schuchhardt
A Reminder Before We Part
If you're just starting your birding journey, don't get too caught up in all the things you feel like you "should" be doing. And don’t be disheartened if you’re not find anything. Some days the birds are there, and others they aren’t. (It’s not you! It’s them!) What matters is you’re looking, you’re turning your attention to the world around you.
Before we wrap up this week's post, I want to leave you with some birding-themed affirmations, some statements that you can look back to, should anyone out there ever make you feel like you are "doing it wrong."
Repeat after me:
I do not have to identify a bird to appreciate it.
I am not defined by my birding skill.
My gear—or lack thereof—is not a reflection of my level of interest or passion for this hobby.
Birding is for everybody.
That's all for this week! Happy bin-less birding, everyone!
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Caitlyn is a volunteer with Madison Audubon. She’s crazy for birds because they changed her life! She’ll be back next Monday with some tips and tools for birders, new and experienced! Between now and then, she’d love to hear from you. What birds are you seeing or hearing? How is birding changing your life? What birding content would you like to see next? Leave a comment below!
