Magee Marsh

4.14 

One thing is certain: I am not a birder.  Nope.  But, boy, was it fun to watch the birders.  Their uniform greeting - "Seen anything?"  The way they stop, pause, stare at the ground or deep through the branches.  The tilt of the head.  The enormity of their scopes and cameras, the expensive binoculars.  The words they use, the things they know.   How they stop to chat or share information with everyone, so congenial.  

One of my favorites was a woman. The coolest garb I have ever seen.  A huge tripod.  The longest camera lens I have ever seen - maybe 24 inches.  Short hair, deep voice.  Alone.  I wanted to follow her around to see what she was seeing. Ask her, in a good way,  "What has made you so committed to this?" 

Another was a very short forty year old man.  Maybe 4'10" wearing camo pants and jacket.  He had a full-on 1970's ZZ Top beard and a boyish smile.  He winked at me as I walked by and, sweet jesus, my jagged heart skipped a beat.   

I know I was supposed to be looking for and at the birds, but I like listened to the bird clatter.  Exciting, excited, excitable.  I wanted to find things to photograph.  A ladybug, a lightening bug.  The beginning of pink buds.  The wear on the graying boardwalk. The letter "R" carved into the marrow of a tree.  A stump covered by fungus. It was all so fucking lovely to me.  No birds, but beauty in this beholder's eyes. 

At first I felt less-than and undeserving.  What the heck was I doing at Magee Marsh with the birders as the largest migration season begins? Then I got it, I was there to see what I saw.  I was there to hear what I heard.  

To me, the mated swan pair was worth it.  The smoke billowing out of the nuclear power plant was worth it.  The eagle sighting.  The strum of Lake Erie waving in.  Talking with Nikki.  A rock I picked up on the shore.  Crossing the Sandusky bridge, water on both sides as far as I could see.  The cheery cottages at Lakeside.  Stopping at Chipotle in Amherst, reading about karma. The meditative thrum of highway driving.  The windburn on my cheeks.  All of it, worth it.