A Big Year It Was
As the clock strikes midnight… in Paris (hi Jan!), we look out the window to a white blanket of fog making any visibility impossible. It’s safe to say my Big Year is over and I am flooded with a feeling of accomplishment. Over the course of the year I saw 290 species (per eBird 287 natives, 2 escapees, and 1 hybrid). When I started this year I had big hopes and felt unstoppable. As January 1, 2024 grew near I had wondered to myself what type of birder would I be? Would I be someone who’s name would pop up near every rare bird sighting? Would I end this year and have something to be proud of? What will it take to make me a birder? These questions would swirl and evolve as the year went on. It took a few changes of perspective to find my version of birding.
In the beginning of March, I finally found my first target species, a yellow headed caracara. At that point I started calling myself a birder, but I was keeping a dirty secret. I wasn't a REAL birder (at least not in my mind) because I had never seen a crested caracara. It wasn’t until the end of March at Kissimmee Prairie that I saw (by saw I mean almost hit with my car as it swooped in front of me) a crested caracara making it number 137 on my list. In April I had an “ah ha!” moment on our migration cruise. A gull had flown by and over the speaker our naturalist informed us that he too couldn’t identify a juvenile seagull after years of birding. Every time I watch a gull fly by and I have absolutely no idea what it is, I remind myself that even the professionals have trouble. In hindsight I could’ve called myself a birder at any point, it’s all about perspective.
Like most people, I wasn’t expecting to experience such grief this year, but life happens. For a while, birding became something so painful and yet cathartic. As I went to places and saw birds I had seen with my step dad this year, I was able let the grief wash over me as well as the healing sounds of birds in nature. In some cultures, it is believed that our ancestors are always with us all we have to do is say their name and they are next to us. With every trill of a belted kingfisher, birding became less of a reminder of the loss and more of a reminder that I’m not as alone as I think. I started feeling more in tune with nature, and the more I listened to the wind, the better my timing was of getting back to my car right before rain hit.
I pushed through physical and emotional pain this year, carrying the weight of grief on a compromised spine. I learned to manage my pain and went from not being able to walk more than a mile to days where I’ve walked over ten miles. (Special thanks to my chiropractor and physical therapy team for giving me the courage to push myself.) Listening to my body and treating every physical therapy session as a catalyst to push myself to see one more bird, take one more photo, walk one more lap helped me overcome the fear of a setback. Some days my walks are still cut short, other days every step is a reminder of how lucky I am to be able to walk on any terrain. Changing my goals from seeing a certain number of birds to just being able to be out longer and walk further made me grateful for every hike. Soon ordinary birds like mockingbirds weren’t just “another mockingbird” but they were “mockingbirds in beautiful lighting” or “mockingbirds with a gorgeous background”.
This year, my soul changed in some very profound ways. I learned to listen to myself, a life list is relative and all that matters is my own experience. I learned to listen to nature; the sounds of birds and the gusts of the wind, connecting with our ancestors who were able to guide themselves long before technology. I learned to listen to my body, it’s mine and I’m blessed with all that it can and can’t do. I was so blessed to be able to spend this year birding, I connected with friends and family, making memories that will last forever in some of the most beautiful places. Thank you to anyone reading this, to my friends and family that checked in to see how I was doing and motivating me, and to all my new birding friends I’ve made this year.
I had many highlights this year, but these were my top five:
5. Watching a northern harrier hunt prairie dogs while eating del taco in a parking lot in Colorado.
4. Witnessing spring migration at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge in Utah.
3. Waking up to a rufous hummingbird every day in San Juan.
2. Camping under the stars and listening to barred owls in Kissimmee Prairie.
1. Photographing the yellow headed caracara as the sunset in Miami.
Cheers to 2025 and breaking the 300 mark on my life list!
