At the beginning of 2019, I made a goal to identify 100 species of birds in the wild. The first I saw was a red-breasted nuthatch on January 1st. It’s been over 330 days since then, and I have seen 91 confirmed species.
If you haven’t been birding, this probably seems like a lot. Any birders reading will probably understand that I’m just getting started. A more experienced birder (my girlfriend’s Dad) said the most he’s seen is 130 species… in one day. So I’m just a fledging.
Even if it isn’t the most ambitious goal, I really want to get to 100 birds.
Winter isn’t a great time for birding in northern Idaho. Fall migration is long past, and there are only a few species that will winter here.
Lewiston, Idaho, 35 miles south of my house, is a different story. My home base of Moscow sits at 2,579 feet above sea level, almost 2,000 feet above Lewiston, which is Idaho’s lowest point, at 745 feet. The change in elevation coincides with a change in environment. The Niimiipuu would leave the high Palouse in winter, walking ancient trails down the chaparral canyons, and make a second home on the snowless banks of the Snake and Clearwater in time for winter salmon runs.
Today, the Niimiipuu aren’t nomadic, but there are still nomadic birds. I decided to see them.
Between two jobs, I don’t often get days off. When I finally had a whole day to myself, I borrowed my girlfriend’s car, grabbed my binoculars, my Sibley’s guide to western birds, and started driving.
Fifteen minutes into the drive, a tire blew.
I pulled over on a gravel road next to a small mining operation. The tire was shredded, and as I lay on the snowy gravel, I realized I almost certainly wasn’t going to make it to Lewiston. And the last 10 species I needed were out of my grasp. Standing up from the dirt, I called my girlfriend and updated her on the filleted rubber.
As I did a magpie inspected the lug nuts I had left on the ground. I guess there was one bird for the day.
It’s okay to not get there.
The spare made it on, and as I drove home, I pondered my original goal.
If the aim of a goal is to reach some measurable point, and brag about it, then yeah, it didn’t work out.
But if the aim of our goals is to give space and momentum to explore our interests, or to gently walk toward our highest values, then I think I’ve done alright.
Nature doesn’t exist to be broken into categories and checked off lists. We exist within it, another participant in a much more interesting and vital world then a Sibley’s guide can illustrate. It’s okay to slow down, to change plans, and not get there.
In any case, I don’t think I’ll see 100 species of birds this year. I’m glad I saw that magpie, though.
The first time I saw a magpie was in the early 80s, when I moved from Bremerton, WA, to Idaho Falls, ID. This was the most beautiful bird I had ever seen! Iridescence, size, contrast…a feast for the eyes. Then…
I was appalled to find out they were called “magpie”! Such a magnificent bird should be named “Harlequin Prince” or “American Adonis” or “Bright Beauty Bird”.
Harlequin Prince is a great name – for a bird or a band.