Scoping It Out

 

It's really hard to photograph birds, especially through a telescope.  A few birds from my trip to Ecuador above.

March 2016

It has been some time since I had a book in hand that I didn't want to put down.  Eating, drinking, chores, work, and a sunset all took a backseat this week as I devoted one entire day and one very nice evening into night finishing Lost Among the Birds by Neil Hayward.  I had mentioned that I had anticipated I would like it and that I would find a few things in common, but it really is extraordinary (and inspiring) to trek another's journey through a year of unknowns.

It has been one year, one month, and two days since I left the day-to-day world of 5:30 am gym, 7:00 am breakfast, 8:30 am work, 3:00 pm finish my triple venti latte, 7:00 pm home (if I'm lucky) with maybe another trek to the gym in the evening before dinner to clear my head.  In the ten years building to this very conscious decision to say "no", I think I had only one relationship in the same city as my abode, preferring to trek across the US and to Europe than taking the plunge to stay put long enough to let someone in my life for more than a few seasons.

In my big year, I flew something like 90,000 miles to three continents for six countries to knock off 11 items from the World Heritage Site list, including a 560 mile walk across Spain.  I was out of my home country more than in it during 2016 (which incidentally is one of the reasons I have never had pets).

In January last year, the only item I had planned was that I would go to the Galapagos and to see Machu Picchu.  I bought a backpack and binoculars in February.  The rest evolved.  It was April 19th when I purchased my ticket to Paris confirming my start of the Camino May 13th.  I started reading the guidebook on April 20th during my flight to LA and began to panic a few hours later over the fly-over states wondering if I was, perhaps, in a bit over my head.  My solo journey ended in June with plans to go to Argentina and the rest of the year was made up on the fly (pun intended).

My journey was indeed different than that of Hayward's year, but I fully appreciated the late commitment to a goal, the honesty about his relationships and the pursuit of something that, to explain it aloud to another, sounds just a little bit crazy.  I was happy to know another person traveled with a book in hand, appreciated baseball and followed a passion without knowing exactly how it would turn out.  I enjoyed his anecdotes of sleeping in cars, the pleasures of coffee, and the friendships forged just because you like birds.  I even enjoyed all the descriptions about our flying friends.  As someone who has been compiling all the notes of her own adventures, I also appreciated his scientific note-taking so that he was able to share his trips with the rest of us.

For those of you who don't quit your jobs or happen to like birds, I think you'd still very much enjoy this read.  I'm sure you have at least one friend like us and perhaps it will help to understand our brains a little better, or it just might encourage you to take a little adventure on your own.  Maybe it will inspire you to linger at the window a little longer or take an old reference book off the shelves to check a few colors.  I'm glad I purchased the hard copy; I'm certain I will read it again.