The Almighty "Tick"

Why do we birdwatch? What is the fascination? Whatever it is, the attraction is powerful enough to perpetuate a flourishing industry, considered by several influential market watchers as "the fastest-growing outdoor activity in America". However, attempts to analyse the popularity of this seemingly meek leisure activity have baffled me. I often criticise the primal endeavour of hunting, picturing unshaven, beer-guzzling campers around a fire, phallic artillery by their side. But, am I any different? I once found myself with a native guide and a freelance writer in northern Ontario, savouring warm "Bud Light", telescope dominating my flanks and discussing the week's strategy for approaching shorebirds migrating across the tundra mudflats of Hudson Bay.

After all, my youthful weekend adventures, hunting with my dad and uncle in the wilds of Lanark County had opened my heart to the limitless beauty of remote wilderness.

Here, I find myself wanting to coexist with nature, not to dominate or control it. I receive tremendous satisfaction in allowing nature to reveal its secrets. How unadventurous and empty to experience nature in the predictable world of a Disney-like environment. Beware the synthetic gratification of "nature on a leash", an ideal environment according to a self-serving golfer in John Sayles' recent movie Sunshine State.

For many years, I took pride in avoiding one of the main motivators in the birding community: listing. I felt it more important to observe a species in its natural habitat than to spot a creature off course, away from its normal range, destined for doom. Sure, my life list is important, a measurement of my determined skills. But, chasing birds for the mere recreation of adding a check mark to a piece of paper. . .how trivial and unfulfilling I thought! I suppose I still believe this. But, I can no longer scoff at my buddies stuffing themselves into a tiny Tercel at seven in the evening, rushing off to the Cassleman Sewage Lagoons after a Curlew Sandpiper was reported by a "competent observer".

Reluctantly, I must face the obvious. . .I too have "twitcher" tendencies. I now understand a birder's feverish "twitching" when the phone rings with another "rare bird alert"!

This revelation came while recently struggling through rush-hour traffic during a wet drive to an out-of-town assignment. How odd to see this huge bird flying low over the congested highway. As it flew over head, I could clearly see it was a ridiculously out of place Sulidae, most certainly an immature Northern Gannet known to occasionally stray into Ontario in the fall. After calming my foul-mouthed excitement, I generated an alert using my partner's cellphone. How exciting to have this rare sighting in such an unexpected environment. As it happens, I have seen a few amazing things along this busy city route. Gyrfalcon, Bald Eagle, Snowy Owl, Green Heron, American Woodcock, Bohemian Waxwing, Pine Grosbeak. . .several creatures that many rarely ever see, even in the wilderness. A routine commute once provided the excitement of a Peregrine Falcon grabbing a small songbird. Come to think of it, this road has provided me with much education and entertainment. Maybe I should keep a "list" of all the birds observed along this stretch of tarmac. Ottawa's Queensway is not a natural environment, and I can't see myself venturing out to the highway for a day's birding. But, at least it doesn't have the predictability of a scripted Disney production.