JAN. 1 - BOULDER, CO
1/1/26
What is birding? To me it’s time to unwind, take it all in and explore nature. Camera, binoculars, spotting scope, a small journal. My two best birding buddies which equates to my wife and my son. Exploring a habitat of trees, wetlands, and grasslands. Looking for birds. Searching for birds. Basking in the beauty of nature one moment at a time. That’s birding.
My son recently said to me, “Dad, we go birding a lot.” This coming from a pre-teen who is one of the best birders I know. I mean that. He’s good. Get him behind a set of nice binoculars in a woodland habitat searching for warblers and he can’t get enough. As for me, I am right there with him. My wife is a shore bird fanatic. Trying to identify all the little pipers through a scope, I am always asking, which one is this again? My wife simply looks through the scope and states, “That’s a Least Sandpiper.” But to me, they all look very similar. But to her, she knows. As a family, we all have our areas of expertise. My son and I love the woodlands, while my wife loves the water. That’s birding.
We started our year in Boulder along the creek. I was walking down the sidewalk and directly towards me was an older woman with walking sticks in each hand smiling at me as I got closer. As I approached, she asks, “Are you birding?” I replied with a big smile, “Yes, I am.” I guess my big camera must have given me away. Immediately we strike up a conversation about all the birds she has been seeing in her backyard and me asking her about seeing any trout in the creek. Her lovely, storybook backyard, I might add. She mentions just seeing a Hairy Woodpecker come to her suet feeder and about this time my wife and son catch up to me and the conversation I am having with this warm fellow birder. She then says to please feel free to roam about her backyard. Which runs along the creek and to let her know if we happen to spot anything. As we come around the corner of her lovely home, down the stone steps into her yard, we were greeted by the sounds of the creek and a downy woodpecker calling nearby. A Black Capped Chickadee is also calling as my son approaches the creek. Dee, dee, dee. Dee, dee, dee. When suddenly my wife calls out, “Dipper!” Dive, splash, dive, splash as the American Dipper joyful waded his way along the creek, up and down the freestone stream. I look back towards the home and see my warm fellow birder watching as well from the top of her patio. “You spotted the Dipper,” she calls out. I responded, “yes, you know your birds very well.” With only a laugh as she was refilling her feeders, she replied, “I enjoy observing them out my window as I cannot walk very well.” We exchanged birding stories and she shared more information about her wonderful home. The history of it and how her and her husband obtained it from his family as it has never been sold, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine living in it as she stated. My wife being the courteous and thoughtful person she is, finally asked our warm fellow birder her name. She responded, “Nelda.” We hope to see Nelda again, as we come back to her storybook home, hopefully seeing her refilling her feeders or watching the birds from the top of her patio along the creek. That’s birding.
American Dipper
American Dipper