It started with Pale Male the red-tailed hawk (please use that link I just
provided – for the love of all that’s decent don’t just randomly do a
Google-search using those words… I’ve made that mistake – and by golly-golly if
I’m going to be subjected to those types of pictures, I sure as heck don’t want
“pale” to be part of the equation).
Some friends of ours invited us to go to the Conservatory Water in
Central Park where, with binoculars, one can watch Pale Male in his nest.
We were hooked.
From then on we cheered when we spotted a pair of mourning doves in
Prospect Park, high-fived when American Coots came to The Lake, and could have
been pushed over with a feather when we spotted a Black-Crowned Night Heron a
few yards from us one day when walking home from school. And let's just say that my mom at a Paul Anka concert had
nothing on me when we actually saw Pale Male up close. I’m somewhat blasé about celebrity sightings in this city,
but when the photographer confirmed what The Boy and I guessed (Pale Male! On a low branch right over The Boy’s
head!), I gasped and grasped the forearm of the photographer to keep my swoon from becoming a concussion. We had become
birders. Not particularly good
birders, but enthusiastic and grateful birders.
We joined an Owl Prowl in Queens, and it prepared us for the lows that come with the highs and the need for constant vigilance (The Mom and The Dad saw
the owl, but the kiddos were too busy stamping their boots in the snow in an
effort to keep warm. I think they learned the necessary lesson: poor blood circulation cannot trump devotion to the watch).
We educated ourselves at Belvedere Castle.
We attended EagleFest at Croton Point Park along the Hudson
River and learned more than our noodles could contain about birds of prey. While standing in line for one of the
presentations I chatted briefly with a charming boy. I
totally cringe every time I’m that adult from The Little Prince, and yet nine times out of ten when I'm talking to kids their protective lenses drop over their eyes and they mentally make their escape as I start in with the lame adult questions. So, yes, I asked the
boy where he went to school. He
shrugged and said, “Places like this.” Another rare bird spotted – a home
schooler.
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We also watched the movie: The Big Year. I’m not sure what movie critics had to
say, but our family enjoyed it. A
big year: you make spotting birds your top priority for one year and see how
many species you can find (on the honor system)… and in the process discover
what your life priorities are.
How many birds, how many adventures, how many insights can
be found in one year when your school is everywhere?
