Thursday, June 5, 2014

A Reluctant Start

As the significant other of an avid birder for the past 6 years, I have noticed a slow but steady change in the world around me. Formerly quiet, peaceful tree-lined streets suddenly burst with a cacophony of chirping warblers in the early weeks of spring. Floor to ceiling windows, once lovely features of modernist home design, have become death traps waiting silently to break the necks of poor, unsuspecting woodpeckers. Trips to the beach are as much about tan lines as they are about the exciting possibility of spotting an oystercatcher digging in the sand for its prey.

I'm an anthropologist. I study humans. Though I've always loved the non-human variety of animals, I decided long ago that my contribution to the world had to revolve around ameliorating the many ills of modern societies. With so much suffering everywhere, why would anyone invest their time in figuring out the phylogenetic relationship between different species of geckos or the biomass of all the beetles in the rainforest? And yet, as you can probably already tell by my use of the world "reluctant" in this blog title (note that it isn't "The Spiteful Birder" or "The Non-Birder" - though it likely would have been had I started this a few years earlier), my relationship with a birder has most certainly changed my outlook on non-human creatures and all the scientific queries that are associated with them.

On a more pragmatic note, it's pretty hard to marry a birder if you aren't willing to pick up a pair of binoculars once in awhile. Oh, what we sacrifice for love - in my case, it has been sleeping past 6AM on vacations and hiking at any kind of reasonable pace.

Therefore, this blog isn't going to be about birding (in fact, my pact to you, dear reader, is that a photo of a bird will never grace this site with its presence) but instead about all the human entanglements with birds and their watchers. For those anthropologists among you, consider this a place to ethnographically explore birders through a digital binocular - it's high time somebody put THEM in front of the lens, isn't it? For those fellow spouses of birders, consider this a self-help group of sorts. And for the rest of you, perhaps this blog will either inspire you to get out there and look at some birds or to resolutely declare yourself a non-birder for life.

Our bookshelf (I never said there wouldn't be DRAWINGS of birds or photos of photos of birds.)

Next up...the field guide to birders. Stay tuned.

6 comments:

  1. Ha! Can't wait to read this blog. As an avid birder with a reluctant (but mostly-willing) partner, I look forward to sharing this with her. Also, as an anthropologist who is conducting dissertation research on birdsong practices (in both the expert and amateur community) I look forward to seeing how you treat the entanglements between birds and humans... Yay :)

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  2. If I had it to do over, find perfect someone, then become birder. It doesn't work well the other way. My entire world revolves around birds and birding so it's very scary to anyone whom I have dated. There is no compromise on birding it is me and I am it. Lol

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  3. What a FABulous angle for a blog!! I am sending a link to my reluctant other!

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  4. As an anthropology Ph.D. and a birder, I look forward to your observations.

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  5. Not a birder, not related to a birder, but read your first post on the Facebook recommendation of David Burg and like your approach. I AM a writer, and enjoy well-written and produced blogs, so count me in as your first unconnected to the field fan.

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  6. I am a birder, as is my husband (arrived at separately, thankfully). Although it can be solitary, birding is also an interesting social activity. Although I'm not an anthropologist, it seems to me that birders are a "tribe", with instant recognition and familiarity with other members of the tribe. I'm looking forward to your views on this and other topics!

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