Hey all,
Its that time of year when days are short, skies are dull (ok, ALL of 2024 has been like that) and nights are long. Birding opportunities are restricted, the naiive among us (ie. me) start dreaming of the new birding year. After my wild musings about the type of birding site, I started thinking about the type of birder we'd come across when we're out and about. Nothing too existential, its a wry, hopefully affectionate, hopefully humorous, and definitely self- deprecating look at ourselves. Enjoy!
____________________________________________
The Immersive/ Big Day birder: someone who wants to maximise their experience. To get the most bird ‘life’ out of each day out, whether it’s the only day they have that week, fortnight, or whether they’ve spent 14 hours in a swamp every day for the past month. And smell like they have. People for whom a ‘quick hour down the park’ is an insult to the very concept of birding, or at least a euphemism for “I’ll be back in 6 hours.” Any day without scope, bins, well- worn green-ish clothing, and full scrim netting is a day wasted.
The Always Positive Birder: Birder for whom being ‘out’ is a joy in itself, birders who’ll find positives in almost every situation. Sadly for such positivity, on the rare occasions with no redeeming features the sense of deflation, the crash, the crushing disappointment can be very, very real. The type of person who’d best avoid the risk of planning a day’s birding at Aberlady Bay.
The Local Expert: there are birders among us who should be preserved and treasured much like Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton. A vital resource for all. People who have devoted their entire life to a local patch (or patches) and combined this with a wealth of knowledge of birding and places in general. I’ve been fortunate enough to cross paths with a few, and am friends with one, and my birding is much the better for that.
The Twitcher- fieldcraft/ knowledge. I’m not a twitcher……but I sort of maybe understand why folk are. Travelling hundreds of miles for a single tick isn’t my thing at all, but many of those who do shouldn’t be written off as mere collectors. Some twitchers have a genuine breadth of knowledge of birding, that they just put to a very specific (and in my view, not all that productive) use. In saying that, any birder who says that they wouldn’t ‘twitch’ something nearby is kidding us, and themselves, on. We all have a limit of how far we’d go, in sense of time, distance, and cost.
The Twitcher- no fieldcraft. Closely related to The Photographer (aka Toggers see below) Folk (and its predominantly males) who could inter- changeably be trainspotting or planespotting. Folk for whom the welfare of the target bird is often secondary, at best, to their chances of ‘getting’ the bird. We’ve all seen photos and videos of a hundred- strong group of folk vying for the best vantage point to see some foreign blow- in that’s doomed to spend whats left of its life lonely and afraid in a foreign land. Essentially, collectors, and its not clear why they don’t take up taxidermy.
The Photographer- with bins. Birders who focus (geddit) on photography to maximise their enjoyment of their hobby. Folk who’ll either have migrated (geddit again?) to photography from birding, or will have started there and are trying to learn birds to catch up. Of the two, the latter are just like any of the rest us who are eager to learn and should be encouraged.
The Photographer- no binos. I’m still including these folk as birders, as by my own established views, if you’re somewhere and aware of birds, then you’re effectively birdwatching (or bird- listening) But overall, while twitchers are collectors of ticks, bino- free toggers are collectors of clicks. On those infrequent days when I take a camera birding, my first instinct upon seeing something unusual would be to grab my binos. I couldn’t go birding without them, although lets not mention those times I’ve forgotten to take them with me.
The Photographer- Fieldcraft & Knowledge: I’ve spent time on reserves and other places with Toggers who clearly have a massive amount of bird knowledge that could be tapped into. Similarly, many have excellent fieldcraft, and would rather chew off their own arm than disturb a target bird for a shot. Sadly, we also have people who lack both knowledge and fieldcraft. Some psychologist somewhere will end up writing a book on this. There is, in the meantime, a pretty good Guardian article, with a link to a journal, that covers some of the issues.
‘You could single-handedly push it to extinction’: how social media is putting our rarest wildlife at risk
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0048969724052562?via=ihub
The Nature reserve (Visitor Centre) birder- just like visitor centre birding has its relative merits, so too should the visitor centre birder be embraced and encouraged. Oftentimes there’s a social aspect to it, meeting up with well- known faces and friends, and just enjoying being there. Others find themselves restricted to visitor centre birding by age or infirmity, lack of resources, or lack of transport. Much depends on the individuals concerned, but often there’s something quite affirming about seeing a group of birders greet each other like long- lost family whilst staring out a large plate glass window at a mostly empty garden feeder. If I’m in a good mood, I tend to find it rather sweet.
The Nature reserve (wild) birder: the type of birder who will have visited all those reserves that are contractually included in the RSPB’s blue book without the eye-watering imagery of the favoured reserves (the ones with shops) The latter tend to attract double- page spreads. The former get a paragraph, and the sense that the author grudges mentioning them at all. These birders will have in- depth knowledge of everything which happens on such understated sites. However, not all of these birders are named ‘Bill’. Probably.
The Wild Place Birder: the title says it all. The birder whose sole reason for living is 12- 14 hour days spent miles from civilisation. The type of birder who’d go to a visitor centre reserve only at gunpoint, and even then, they’d weigh up the pros and cons. The type of birder who’d scoff at bringing a packed lunch, and would set out to forage for nuts and berries for sustenance. The kind of birder who’d not only survive the collapse of human civilisation, they’d welcome it.
The Solo Flyer- birding is a solitary ‘hobby’ which is best shared with good friends. That’s Green Sand’s philosophy. Believe it or not, I’m actually quite shy and like a lot of shy people, I enjoy my own company. A lot. But there’s other occasions where I can be almost sociable if the situation warrants it. Like if a passer- by strikes up a conversation about birds, or really any chance I have to talk about them. Lothian bus drivers are now wary when they see me approach wearing binos round my neck.
The Cold Fish- the solo flyer for whom nothing at all would make them strike up a conversation with another birder. The kind who will ignore the time honoured greeting of “seen much?” and remain intent on ignoring all about them. To each their own, and I try not to judge anyone who’s living their own life. Honestly…..
The Team/ social birder- the birder who’s enjoyment of birding is increased by, or dependent upon, the number of people they are birding with. This can be getting the benefit of many eyes seeing more, but also that they genuinely enjoy the company of like- minded individuals. Some of these social groups are decades old, and much like the folk meeting up in the visitor centre, there can be something sweet about it.
The Team/ Antisocial birder- much like above, but with more rivalry, more anger, and less sweetness.
The envious birder: someone who’s birding goals don’t always match their birding reality. Whether its in relation to birds seen, places visited, life list, year list, or having been to Aberlady and not had a day of crushing disappointment, despair and anguish. It takes a positive mindframe to seek the positives in what you have, rather than the negatives in what you don’t. Once I’ve fully achieved that, I’ll let you know.
The optical specialist- Simon Barnes explained that birdwatching isn’t boring, but discussions about the relative merits of optical glass can be. Few things are worse than a Kowa v Swarovski debate in a hide. Unless it degenerates into anger, recrimination and violence, in which case its damned funny. Especially if its clearly been a long- standing feud that kicked off at a local bird club Christmas do in 1993.
The Seabird specialist- Gulls. It turns out that there is no such thing as a ‘seagull.’ Lesson number one. Lesson number 2 is that juvenile gulls have a myriad of different plumages depending on age. Since I’m a farm boy, who’s happiest in a field, a forest, or a swamp, seaside birding isn’t really my natural habitat. Gulls will always be a weakness- sure I can usually identify the obvious adult ones- but give me a juvenile gull or an uncommon species and I’ll look blankly at you. There is, though, hope. Walking among us are genuine gull experts. People who have an encyclopedic knowledge of all things gull- related. Such folk (and its often bearded men) should be stored in a protective case, with a sign “During a gull crisis, break glass.”
The Seabird specialist- non Gulls: It also turns out that there are plenty of seabirds who aren’t gulls. Best way to learn about these is to visit a seabird colony, a clifftop of indeterminate height, with thousands of kittiwake, guillemot, razorbill, fulmar, puffin, and a significant risk of death by falling off. The alternative seabird specialist is one who may also be found sitting staring through his (and again its mostly males) scope at a fixed point far out at sea, identifying species from a fleeting second or two glimpse. High levels of skill, high numbers of ticks, but nah, not for me.
The Garden birder: in many ways the purest form of birding. Simple in its style, garden birding, whether through your window, using your shed as a hide, or in full scrim netting next to your overgrown hedge, is enough for many people to immerse yourself in the joy of birding without needing to travel, form lists, get competitive, or have some halfwit bore you senseless about things they’ve seen in their own patch 300 miles away. We probably all started watching birds in the garden, and we should always remember our roots.
The Know-it-all: Otherwise known as The Bore. Otherwise known as the Two Shits. I’m all for people with knowledge, years in the field, etc sharing this to improve the birding experience for others. There’s a thin line between this, and someone in love with the sound of their own voice (says the man writing a blog for mass consumption….) The Bore will occasionally inadvertently repeat the same story to the same person without realising it, giving the impression that they’ve rehearsed a script. Worse, any achievement you have will be surpassed by something they’ve done. At the extreme end of the scale is The Two Shits- if you claim do have done one shit that day, you can guarantee they’ll have done two.
The All The Gear- Some Idea: We all start somewhere. I was lucky to have grown up somewhere reasonably rural, and so was exposed to birds from an early age. Not everyone has that, and many of us decide to join in the fun late. Splash some cash on decent binos, a decent scope, clean green-ish clothes, and lets get started. People with a genuine interest in birding, nature, wildlife, etc, and who want to know more. People who embrace it, and regret the dark days of their younger selves when life was devoted to the pursuit of alcohol and hedonism. People who we must nurture, and accept as one of us. I wouldn’t be anywhere near the person I am now without good people having done that for me.
The All The Gear- Never An Idea: as my old gran would say “more money than sense.” Having disposable income and taking up birding on a whim. I mean, fair play to them, if they develop a genuine love for it, then they’re more likely to be willing to fight for the special places we need. Alternatively, they can easily go the way of the dark side of Twitching and Toggering.
Anakin Skybirders…….
The Average Birder: nothing to do with skill, but I think we all can see bits of most of the above in us. And truly, thats what makes us birders.
As always, stay healthy, stay safe, stay brilliant..
John
Its that time of year when days are short, skies are dull (ok, ALL of 2024 has been like that) and nights are long. Birding opportunities are restricted, the naiive among us (ie. me) start dreaming of the new birding year. After my wild musings about the type of birding site, I started thinking about the type of birder we'd come across when we're out and about. Nothing too existential, its a wry, hopefully affectionate, hopefully humorous, and definitely self- deprecating look at ourselves. Enjoy!
____________________________________________
The Immersive/ Big Day birder: someone who wants to maximise their experience. To get the most bird ‘life’ out of each day out, whether it’s the only day they have that week, fortnight, or whether they’ve spent 14 hours in a swamp every day for the past month. And smell like they have. People for whom a ‘quick hour down the park’ is an insult to the very concept of birding, or at least a euphemism for “I’ll be back in 6 hours.” Any day without scope, bins, well- worn green-ish clothing, and full scrim netting is a day wasted.
The Always Positive Birder: Birder for whom being ‘out’ is a joy in itself, birders who’ll find positives in almost every situation. Sadly for such positivity, on the rare occasions with no redeeming features the sense of deflation, the crash, the crushing disappointment can be very, very real. The type of person who’d best avoid the risk of planning a day’s birding at Aberlady Bay.
The Local Expert: there are birders among us who should be preserved and treasured much like Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton. A vital resource for all. People who have devoted their entire life to a local patch (or patches) and combined this with a wealth of knowledge of birding and places in general. I’ve been fortunate enough to cross paths with a few, and am friends with one, and my birding is much the better for that.
The Twitcher- fieldcraft/ knowledge. I’m not a twitcher……but I sort of maybe understand why folk are. Travelling hundreds of miles for a single tick isn’t my thing at all, but many of those who do shouldn’t be written off as mere collectors. Some twitchers have a genuine breadth of knowledge of birding, that they just put to a very specific (and in my view, not all that productive) use. In saying that, any birder who says that they wouldn’t ‘twitch’ something nearby is kidding us, and themselves, on. We all have a limit of how far we’d go, in sense of time, distance, and cost.
The Twitcher- no fieldcraft. Closely related to The Photographer (aka Toggers see below) Folk (and its predominantly males) who could inter- changeably be trainspotting or planespotting. Folk for whom the welfare of the target bird is often secondary, at best, to their chances of ‘getting’ the bird. We’ve all seen photos and videos of a hundred- strong group of folk vying for the best vantage point to see some foreign blow- in that’s doomed to spend whats left of its life lonely and afraid in a foreign land. Essentially, collectors, and its not clear why they don’t take up taxidermy.
The Photographer- with bins. Birders who focus (geddit) on photography to maximise their enjoyment of their hobby. Folk who’ll either have migrated (geddit again?) to photography from birding, or will have started there and are trying to learn birds to catch up. Of the two, the latter are just like any of the rest us who are eager to learn and should be encouraged.
The Photographer- no binos. I’m still including these folk as birders, as by my own established views, if you’re somewhere and aware of birds, then you’re effectively birdwatching (or bird- listening) But overall, while twitchers are collectors of ticks, bino- free toggers are collectors of clicks. On those infrequent days when I take a camera birding, my first instinct upon seeing something unusual would be to grab my binos. I couldn’t go birding without them, although lets not mention those times I’ve forgotten to take them with me.
The Photographer- Fieldcraft & Knowledge: I’ve spent time on reserves and other places with Toggers who clearly have a massive amount of bird knowledge that could be tapped into. Similarly, many have excellent fieldcraft, and would rather chew off their own arm than disturb a target bird for a shot. Sadly, we also have people who lack both knowledge and fieldcraft. Some psychologist somewhere will end up writing a book on this. There is, in the meantime, a pretty good Guardian article, with a link to a journal, that covers some of the issues.
‘You could single-handedly push it to extinction’: how social media is putting our rarest wildlife at risk
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0048969724052562?via=ihub
The Nature reserve (Visitor Centre) birder- just like visitor centre birding has its relative merits, so too should the visitor centre birder be embraced and encouraged. Oftentimes there’s a social aspect to it, meeting up with well- known faces and friends, and just enjoying being there. Others find themselves restricted to visitor centre birding by age or infirmity, lack of resources, or lack of transport. Much depends on the individuals concerned, but often there’s something quite affirming about seeing a group of birders greet each other like long- lost family whilst staring out a large plate glass window at a mostly empty garden feeder. If I’m in a good mood, I tend to find it rather sweet.
The Nature reserve (wild) birder: the type of birder who will have visited all those reserves that are contractually included in the RSPB’s blue book without the eye-watering imagery of the favoured reserves (the ones with shops) The latter tend to attract double- page spreads. The former get a paragraph, and the sense that the author grudges mentioning them at all. These birders will have in- depth knowledge of everything which happens on such understated sites. However, not all of these birders are named ‘Bill’. Probably.
The Wild Place Birder: the title says it all. The birder whose sole reason for living is 12- 14 hour days spent miles from civilisation. The type of birder who’d go to a visitor centre reserve only at gunpoint, and even then, they’d weigh up the pros and cons. The type of birder who’d scoff at bringing a packed lunch, and would set out to forage for nuts and berries for sustenance. The kind of birder who’d not only survive the collapse of human civilisation, they’d welcome it.
The Solo Flyer- birding is a solitary ‘hobby’ which is best shared with good friends. That’s Green Sand’s philosophy. Believe it or not, I’m actually quite shy and like a lot of shy people, I enjoy my own company. A lot. But there’s other occasions where I can be almost sociable if the situation warrants it. Like if a passer- by strikes up a conversation about birds, or really any chance I have to talk about them. Lothian bus drivers are now wary when they see me approach wearing binos round my neck.
The Cold Fish- the solo flyer for whom nothing at all would make them strike up a conversation with another birder. The kind who will ignore the time honoured greeting of “seen much?” and remain intent on ignoring all about them. To each their own, and I try not to judge anyone who’s living their own life. Honestly…..
The Team/ social birder- the birder who’s enjoyment of birding is increased by, or dependent upon, the number of people they are birding with. This can be getting the benefit of many eyes seeing more, but also that they genuinely enjoy the company of like- minded individuals. Some of these social groups are decades old, and much like the folk meeting up in the visitor centre, there can be something sweet about it.
The Team/ Antisocial birder- much like above, but with more rivalry, more anger, and less sweetness.
The envious birder: someone who’s birding goals don’t always match their birding reality. Whether its in relation to birds seen, places visited, life list, year list, or having been to Aberlady and not had a day of crushing disappointment, despair and anguish. It takes a positive mindframe to seek the positives in what you have, rather than the negatives in what you don’t. Once I’ve fully achieved that, I’ll let you know.
The optical specialist- Simon Barnes explained that birdwatching isn’t boring, but discussions about the relative merits of optical glass can be. Few things are worse than a Kowa v Swarovski debate in a hide. Unless it degenerates into anger, recrimination and violence, in which case its damned funny. Especially if its clearly been a long- standing feud that kicked off at a local bird club Christmas do in 1993.
The Seabird specialist- Gulls. It turns out that there is no such thing as a ‘seagull.’ Lesson number one. Lesson number 2 is that juvenile gulls have a myriad of different plumages depending on age. Since I’m a farm boy, who’s happiest in a field, a forest, or a swamp, seaside birding isn’t really my natural habitat. Gulls will always be a weakness- sure I can usually identify the obvious adult ones- but give me a juvenile gull or an uncommon species and I’ll look blankly at you. There is, though, hope. Walking among us are genuine gull experts. People who have an encyclopedic knowledge of all things gull- related. Such folk (and its often bearded men) should be stored in a protective case, with a sign “During a gull crisis, break glass.”
The Seabird specialist- non Gulls: It also turns out that there are plenty of seabirds who aren’t gulls. Best way to learn about these is to visit a seabird colony, a clifftop of indeterminate height, with thousands of kittiwake, guillemot, razorbill, fulmar, puffin, and a significant risk of death by falling off. The alternative seabird specialist is one who may also be found sitting staring through his (and again its mostly males) scope at a fixed point far out at sea, identifying species from a fleeting second or two glimpse. High levels of skill, high numbers of ticks, but nah, not for me.
The Garden birder: in many ways the purest form of birding. Simple in its style, garden birding, whether through your window, using your shed as a hide, or in full scrim netting next to your overgrown hedge, is enough for many people to immerse yourself in the joy of birding without needing to travel, form lists, get competitive, or have some halfwit bore you senseless about things they’ve seen in their own patch 300 miles away. We probably all started watching birds in the garden, and we should always remember our roots.
The Know-it-all: Otherwise known as The Bore. Otherwise known as the Two Shits. I’m all for people with knowledge, years in the field, etc sharing this to improve the birding experience for others. There’s a thin line between this, and someone in love with the sound of their own voice (says the man writing a blog for mass consumption….) The Bore will occasionally inadvertently repeat the same story to the same person without realising it, giving the impression that they’ve rehearsed a script. Worse, any achievement you have will be surpassed by something they’ve done. At the extreme end of the scale is The Two Shits- if you claim do have done one shit that day, you can guarantee they’ll have done two.
The All The Gear- Some Idea: We all start somewhere. I was lucky to have grown up somewhere reasonably rural, and so was exposed to birds from an early age. Not everyone has that, and many of us decide to join in the fun late. Splash some cash on decent binos, a decent scope, clean green-ish clothes, and lets get started. People with a genuine interest in birding, nature, wildlife, etc, and who want to know more. People who embrace it, and regret the dark days of their younger selves when life was devoted to the pursuit of alcohol and hedonism. People who we must nurture, and accept as one of us. I wouldn’t be anywhere near the person I am now without good people having done that for me.
The All The Gear- Never An Idea: as my old gran would say “more money than sense.” Having disposable income and taking up birding on a whim. I mean, fair play to them, if they develop a genuine love for it, then they’re more likely to be willing to fight for the special places we need. Alternatively, they can easily go the way of the dark side of Twitching and Toggering.
Anakin Skybirders…….
The Average Birder: nothing to do with skill, but I think we all can see bits of most of the above in us. And truly, thats what makes us birders.
As always, stay healthy, stay safe, stay brilliant..
John
