Zen Birding

 I've been thinking about the practice of meditation and how it relates to birding for awhile.  I'm a miserable failure (so far) at sitting, legs crossed, mindful, for 20, or even 15 minutes.  I'm not disciplined and have felt like kind of a failure about the whole thing.   Then this wonderful book came into my life: "Zen Birding" by David M. White and Susan M. Guyette.  Birding fits perfectly as a zen activity.  As the authors state "...the essence or Zen-ness of birding ...is learning to appreciate birds as cohabitants of this planet and as masters of their environments who have much to teach us about harmonious, everyday ordinary life."
Birding can be anything the birder wants to make of it.  At the far end of the spectrum are the listers, or twitchers, whose sole purpose is to find and check off every possible bird they can see. The list is the master.  Long, expensive trips are nothing if you can tick off a few more rarities.  There are around 9,900 birds to put on a world list now, so that entails a lot of work.  There are several folks worldwide who are in the high eight thousands.  Maybe higher, I don't keep track.  On the other end of the spectrum are the folks who enjoy backyard birds, put out feeders and pretty much know what bird is there in each season.  It's what you want to make of it.
Many avid listers also enjoy every bird they see. There's a book written about Phoebe Snetsinger called "Life List".  Phoebe was an intrepid woman who got her list to the eight thousand range before she died.  Incidentally, she died in a bus wreck in Madagascar, chasing birds.  She was in her 70's. She had been told in her 50's that she had terminal cancer and six months to live.  So she started doing exactly what she wanted to do with her life, which was birding.  

Most birders fall somewhere in between these two ends.
I do have a world list and I'm proud of it.  I've seen 1,158 of the birds in the world and every one  of them was a  treat.  I've looked for probably twice that many and have either missed them, or seen them so poorly that I didn't feel I could enter them on my list.  That's where the zen comes in.  What do I get from birding?  If it's a tail end disappearing into the brush, why count that?  The experience is the thing.
It's pretty easy for me to be in the present when I'm looking at a bird.  I've been taking my cup of coffee out to the side yard early every morning and sitting.  No binoculars, which is a real challenge.  Look at who comes to the feeders, how they feed, who's bossy, who hangs back.  How do the small flocks of chickadees interact?  What about the nuthatch with his toy horn-honk noise?
If I understand correctly, being present is the important thing.  Not thinking of past or future, just what is in front of me. The more open we are, the more aware, the more we pay attention to all of it, the more we will learn.  The songs will become familiar and you will attach a song to a bird.  Certain birds will be expected certain times of day and certain seasons.  This is the learning they offer to us.  There is a zen saying "when the student is ready, the teacher appears."   Being open to lessons and beauty, not making assumptions, being patient. Big one for me.
I'm afraid I've provided a clumsy explanation of a very special subject.  Rumi says it better:

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the door sill
Where the two worlds touch. 
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.

Rumi