“What you do when you’re not working, not being productive…”

“…Birding has tripled the time I spend outdoors. It has pushed me to explore Oakland in ways I never would have: Amazing hot spots lurk within industrial areas, sewage treatment plants and random residential parks. It has proved more meditative than meditation. While birding, I seem impervious to heat, cold, hunger and thirst. My senses focus resolutely on the present, and the usual hubbub in my head becomes quiet. When I spot a species for the first time — a lifer — I course with adrenaline, while being utterly serene…

“When I step out my door in the morning, I take an aural census of the neighborhood, tuning in to the chatter of creatures that were always there and that I might previously have overlooked. The passing of the seasons feels more granular, marked by the arrival and disappearance of particular species instead of much slower changes in day length, temperature and greenery. I find myself noticing small shifts in the weather and small differences in habitat. I think about the tides…

Of course, having the time to bird is an immense privilege. As a freelancer, I have total control over my hours and my ability to get out in the field. “Are you a retiree?” a fellow birder recently asked me. “You’re birding like a retiree.” I laughed, but the comment spoke to the idea that things like birding are what you do when you’re not working, not being productive.

I reject that. These recent years have taught me that I’m less when I’m not actively looking after myself, that I have value to my world and my community beyond ceaseless production, and that pursuits like birding that foster joy, wonder and connection to place are not sidebars to a fulfilled life but their essence.

It’s easy to think of birding as an escape from reality. Instead, I see it as immersion in the true reality. I don’t need to know who the main characters are on social media and what everyone is saying about them, when I can instead spend an hour trying to find a rare sparrow. It’s very clear to me which of those two activities is the more ridiculous. It’s not the one with the sparrow.

Ed Yong, from “When I Became a Birder, Almost Everything Else Fell Into Place (NY Times, March 30, 2024)


Photo: DK @ Cove Island Park, March 31, 2024. Canada Geese at sunrise. More photos from that morning here.

42 thoughts on ““What you do when you’re not working, not being productive…””

  1. No need to defend – whether birding, greeting the sunrise, taking in everything that underscores the urgency for moment’s can fade – it seems like a pretty worthy goal. Work will always be there; this day’s sunrise, moon glow, etc strikes me as some of the most constructive effort in every day

    1. Hey Daniel. So good to hear from you. We are simpatico on the birder-thing. If you and your wife are amateurs, I haven’t yet arrived at calling myself anything but an admirer. Hope you and your family are doing well. Dave

  2. Cove has given me many gifts…. but a new appreciation for our feathered friends wasn’t one that I was expecting. The bird sounds that are omitted, just as the sun makes her appearance honestly mirrors a symphony. I strongly agree that time spent in nature, though not “working”…. is always productive for the mind and soul. At least for me. Love that these geese posed for you. Great capture.

  3. I’m more than slightly disappointed that it wasn’t YOU who wrote these wonderful, serene and peaceful observations. And the expression of birder/birding made me smile. In England we called all those ‘special ppl’ who rooted for anything from birds to steam trains, watching planes taking off or whatever, ANORAKS! Because they nearly always wore an anorak, were out in all weather and protected themselves from wind and cold, sunshine and sudden rain….
    A wonderful article and I’d love to read the whole thing (as usual)…. Tks for sharing. Try to learn from this gentleman – it’s so worth it!

    1. Hi Kiki. Thank you. Learned something today: “Anoraks!” Love it. Click on the title of the article. You should be taken directly to the full article in my Readwise account. I have set these links up just for YOU! Let me know if it works!

  4. I understand him completely. While not a birder, I am an observer of nature. This injury I have sustained has left me sans my daily walk or every other day run in the same places. I’ve been feeling incomplete! So I said eff it and went out yesterday. Then slipped on the winter gravel and re-pulled my muscle worse off than it was before. Woe!

  5. An amazing passage… It is explained very well, I agree with all his sentences. Beautiful and yes, wisdom too. Thank you dear David, have a nice day, Love, nia

  6. Amen, preach it, Bro! There’s being productive, and then there’s being more alive, indeed –and for me, rarely the twain was met. I love that the musing jumped out at you, DK, and love that you brought it here.

  7. Hope is the thing with feathers
    That perches in the soul,
    And sings the tune without the words,
    And never stops at all,

    And sweetest in the gale is heard;
    And sore must be the storm
    That could abash the little bird
    That kept so many warm.

    I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
    And on the strangest sea;
    Yet, never, in extremity,
    It asked a crumb of me.

    By Emily Dickinson

  8. “It’s easy to think of birding as an escape from reality. Instead, I see it as immersion in the true reality.” I often think of camping trips and other activities in nature this way (i.e. escaping my real life in Toronto), and I love this reminder. Gorgeous photo, too!

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