Birdwatching

The other day Jon and I were discussing potential hobbies or interests we should pursue now that we are here in Florida, more or less on a yearlong (or more) vacation. Actually, the list is quite long, and includes cycling (Jon only, this has never interested me), fishing, kayaking, and, perhaps surprisingly, birdwatching.

Now as recently as a week ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of pursuing birdwatching, more properly known as "birding," as a hobby. In fact, when it first appeared on our list of ideas, it was as a joke. This area of Florida is known for its wide array of birds and even draws tourists throughout the year for whom the birds, and not the beaches, are the focus of their vacation. To us this has always seemed rather, well, nerdy. Picture gray-haired ladies and gents with giant hats, pants with lots of pockets to hold an assortment of binoculars, cameras, and other birding "gear."

Just a few days ago our view of this hobby has suddenly changed. It happened during a rainstorm on Sunday afternoon. From the family room, Jon caught a glimpse through the sliding glass door of a giant bird landing directly in our backyard, between the edge of our screened lanai and the canal seawall. I snapped a picture as we all gazed in amazement at this beautiful creature we had never seen in real life, much less this close. After it flew away, I looked it up on the internet and believe it to be a Great Blue Heron. This, I guess, was the beginning of birding becoming an actual contender for our time and interest this year.

Today, while swimming in the pool with the kids, we observed several more unique species, all within plain view. One, his landing directly in the spot where the Great Blue Heron stood a few days ago, prompted me to have Emma grab Jon from his office to come and see. This time I did not have the camera handy (I am not yet a true birdwatcher, apparently), but I did some quick research and believe this was a Great Heron. He or she was tall, with a great long curved neck and a pointy orange beak. He just stood by the canal's edge for a few minutes, then gracefully flew to the water below. It flew away only when Jon approached the dock for a closer look.

Although the sightings of these two magnificent birds is fairly rare for us, each being spotted only once in the two weeks we have been here, others are commonly seen every day. At least one Red-winged Blackbird lives in our yard, regularly singing his distinctive song to a friend or mate down the way, who always answers in echo. A lone morning dove, one bird species we used to see regularly back in Pennsylvania, landed on the roof of our lanai during our swim today as well, moving delicately along the edge, watching us. Two large white birds with black-tipped wings were perched in a tall needley tree across the canal from us, swaying in the wind on their branches for quite some time as I floated on my raft near the kids. And, as I write, birds all around are chirping and singing, while a tiny lizard hangs out on a screen nearby, where he has been stationed for most of the afternoon.

Perhaps there might just be something to this bird-watching thing after all. It's a stroke of luck that we already own a decent pair of binoculars, a gift we selected from among several others Jon's company offered in honor of his five year anniversary a few years back. Though chances are you won't find us in baggy pants or big hats, we will, most likely, be snapping pictures whenever we can in order to document these everyday Florida, amazing-to-us, discoveries.