The Spiritual Practice of Birding
When I lived in Nashville, I regularly hiked at Radnor Lake State Park, a day-use natural area conveniently located just a few miles from my home. Five minutes after dropping my son off at high school, I could commence walking in the woods.
When I traversed the Lake Trail, I often encountered groups of people whispering animatedly while peering intently through their binoculars. In those days, I could not understand the allure of birdwatching. I would step around their quiet clusters, glancing upwards, wondering what they were looking for, before proceeding down the trail at a rapid clip. Standing still in the forest didn’t make sense to me. I wanted to keep moving.
My, how times have changed. As of mid-September, I am currently ranked #25 among birders in Buncombe County, North Carolina, one spot behind my son. So far this year, I have submitted 167 checklists on eBird, logging 179 species. Behold, the birder!
My son’s interest in birding was fledged during his graduate school days at Southern Oregon University. On our visits to the Beaver State, my husband and I curiously observed our son’s newfound passion for his feathered friends.
Because of my longstanding maternal practice of learning about the things my child is interested in, I downloaded two apps from Cornell Lab of Ornithology - eBird mobile and Merlin Bird ID. Henceforth, I endeavored to pay attention to chirps and calls that would have previously escaped my notice.
I now prioritize spending time peering through my bins (binoculars), listening for birdsong. I frequent Beaver Lake Bird Sanctuary, the farm fields at Warren Wilson College, and the Lagoon on Biltmore Estate - all Buncombe County “hotspots” for bird sightings. I find birding to be deeply meditative. Stop. Look. Listen.
Through birding, I have learned how to pay attention, not only to the wonderful array of warblers migrating north over the Blue Ridge Mountains in the spring or the Broad-wing Hawks heading south in the fall, but also to the presence of the Divine in God’s good creation. I agree with Simone Weil: “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love. Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.”
I have also learned that birding is better with a companion. My son’s Mother’s Day gift to me in 2023 was a day of birding. On Global Big Day - a celebration of birds organized by Cornell Lab of Ornithology - birders around the world are encouraged to identify and log as many species of birds as possible during the designated 24-hour period.
On Saturday, May 13, 2023, my son and I set a goal of logging 100 species during our Big Day in the Carolinas. We began our quest shortly after sunrise at Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina and concluded after sunset at Devil’s Courthouse Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. Our delightful day was a smashing success, not simply because we exceeded our goal.
I was aware throughout the day that without my son’s help, my solo species count would have been significantly lower. He has far more expertise and much better equipment. But there were several times during our Big Day adventure when I heard a bird singing or spotted a bird in flight that he would have missed. We were better birders together.
Birding has become a meaningful spiritual practice for me. When I am birding, I move slowly and intentionally, with a heightened sensitivity to the surrounding sights and sounds. While I wander, bins in hand, the Spirit accompanies me. I return to my car with far more than a checklist of species observed.
Birding is an apt metaphor for spiritual companionship. When we invite someone to join us on our spiritual journey, our attentiveness is enhanced. Together, we seek evidence of the Spirit’s energetic presence. As we listen and look for the songs and signs of the Spirit, our perspective shifts, we notice marvelous things. The ancient Celts had the right idea when they referred to the Spirit as a wild goose.
“Look at the birds of the air,” Jesus urged his listeners as he preached on a mountain overlooking the Sea of Galilee. When I seek out the birds in the mountains of Western North Carolina, I am reminded of God’s presence and provision. As the birds raise their carols, my heart soars.
Invitation to wonder: What practices help you pay closer attention to the Spirit’s activity in your life? Where do you see evidence of the Divine in creation?
