What do you think?
Rate this book
304 pages, Paperback
First published October 15, 2020
These essays are not just field reports. They expand with reflections on love, family, life, and death and engage a range of emotions from wonder to humor. And because birds magnify our relationship to the natural world, you will read stories about habitat loss, declining species, birds that collide with buildings, or birds now extinct. Some too tell of small victories...It's a perfect read for a winter night when the wind is blowing and you are feeling out of sorts; it's an anthology to keep near when the birds are not. ~ Susan Fox Rogers, Editor
More than 100 years ago, black men of the U.S. Army's Ninth and Tenth Calvary and Twenty-Fourth and Twenty-Fifth Infantry followed orders and endured the extremes of heat, cold, dust, mud, insects, and disease that often plague the out-of-the-way places I go by choice to find birds. In between the daily tasks of surviving rampant racism from the U.S. Army, skirmishes with American Indians fighting (rightfully) to hold onto homelands, and incursions from Mexican patriots (trying to understandably reclaim lost homeland), I'm sure there wasn't much time for the leisure of watching birds or rising at dawn to witness a prairie ritual. But then again, this Nebraska trip was breaking brain barriers I'd long held as dogma. Maybe I was giving these brave men short shrift. I'd like to think that all of us, regardless of circumstance, find some way to appreciate the wonders of the world around us.
It's worth saying here that I'm a middle-aged white man driving a relatively new car, and all of the military personnel appeared to be white men, young enough to be my students. If any racial profiling was going on, it was to my benefit.
When I went inside, no kids came running to meet me, and this absence of kids seemed to clinch it: I was better off spending my anxiety budget on viral pandemics and dirty bombs than on global warming. Even if I had had kids, it would have been hard work for me to care about the climatic well-being of their children's children. Not having kids freed me altogether. Not having kids was my last, best line of defense against the likes of Al Gore.
Life is always harder than we think it should be. But it is ours, isn't it? And here were these magnificent birds, sailing along on our lake, going about their business and filling me with an awe that knocked me sideways and took me outside my small human concerns. Bound by cycles of seasonal change and patterns of birth, and renewal, the sight of the swans comforted me on some essential level, offering what I can only describe as the solace of wild things. If they could manage to do something this enormous, guided by star patterns and earth's magnetic fields, I could navigate my life, couldn't I?