The birder lives a life of sacrifice. Loved ones are shunned in favour of an eBird notification. Weekend to-do lists are abandoned and gardening is forsaken. Fashionable clothes are replaced with sensible shoes and camouflage gear designed for comfort rather than style, seemingly over a brief period in the 80s. The 1880s. Logical itineraries and practicalities such as 'closest toilet' are ignored. Friends are no match for like-minded enthusiasts who possess the subtle but mercenary competitiveness necessary to survive in this bird-eat-bird world.
It's a life of disappointment. Bitter disappointment. Imagine driving 600 kilometres, sitting alone in the middle of a deserted national park, eating cereal out of a ziplock bag and whistling for hours on end in biting wind for a bird that never comes. At least, a bird that never comes for you.
And then there are the risks. Neck strain and grazed knees are the tell-tale signs of the birder whose eyes are in the treetops. Dangerous and often snake-infested terrain is traversed (think Herdsman in October). Questionable but potentially knowledgeable locals at outback outposts are befriended in spite of cautionary tales such as 'Wolf Creek'. Signs like 'no shooting past this point', 'no fuel for 500kms' and 'most western pub' are pointed reminders of extreme isolation in a very vast land.
Of all the difficulties of birding, perhaps the most significant is the inevitable personality disorder that results from the intense nature of the sport. Ever-alert to the possibility of a sighting, the sound of a chirrup or the flash of a wing, even simple acts such as driving down the street to the shops or having a conversation outdoors become ordeals. For the birder exists in a heightened sensory state which is exacerbated in an alfresco setting. Study her closely and you will note the rapid eye movements, distracted mental state and ears trained to notice the softest trill hundreds of meters away. Such finely-honed skills of observation can offer the birder no peace.
But in spite of the misconceptions, drawbacks and dangers, the birding life is a life lived well and full. And here's the proof:
