On Being a Bad Birdwatcher

Posted on December 3, 2012 by Tracy Abell

I glanced out the window this morning and saw a bird high up on the wire.
It was partially blocked by the bare branches of a red maple and power
lines, feathers fluffed against the cold wind.

Kestrel, I thought.
I grabbed the binoculars and, sure enough, it was an American Kestrel.

I smiled and thought about Simon Barnes who wrote one of my absolute
favorite books HOW TO BE A (BAD) BIRDWATCHER.**

Simon Barnes wrote about jizz*** (I know, such an unfortunate term), defining it as “the art of seeing a bird badly and still knowing what it is.” The more you watch birds, the more information you internalize, and as Mr. Barnes points out, “Familiarity enables you to process scanty information and interpret it in a meaningful way.”

When I see a bird in flight, one moving in a bouncy up-and-down pattern,
I know it’s a finch. If I catch a glimpse of a bird on the ground, scratching in the
leaves, I identify it as a spotted towhee. If a bird flaps past me, trailing long tail
feathers, I recognize it as a magpie.

This makes me happy. Because no matter what else is going on in my life —
parenting worries, frustrating quest for publication, search for part-time
employment, etc. — I am a bad birdwatcher and I’ve got jizz.
It’s a life-long condition and no one can take it away from me.

** From the opening chapter: “…[that's] what being a bad birdwatcher is
all about. It is just the habit of looking. Born-againers talk about bringing
Jesus into Your Life; this book is an invitation to bring birds into your life.
To the greater glory of life.”

*** Apparently, it’s inadvisable to search Google for the etymology for jizz
so I’m content to accept the one theory suggesting it’s a contraction of just is.
As in: “How do you know the lower bird in the photo below is a northern flicker?”
“Just is.”

Thankful Thursday: Feathered Friends

Posted on October 11, 2012 by Tracy Abell

Every single day I am grateful for the birds on this planet.

Words are a heavy thing,
they weigh you down.
If birds talked,
they couldn’t fly.

~ Northern Exposure (On Your Own, 1992)

Cat Scratch Fever

Posted on July 19, 2012 by Tracy Abell

mullets, goldfinches, etc 018

Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.
~ Joseph Wood Krutch

Maurice Sendak on Melville and Diving

Posted on April 30, 2012 by Tracy Abell

Herman Melville was always using the image of the artist as diver.
He loved that word. Having to dive from some height, meaning, of
course, taking a serious risk. Because if you dive and you're lucky,
you'll come up with gold from the bottom of yourself. You dive deep
into the self. But you can also drown, you can smash your head upon
the rocks — there are terrible risks in diving from a great height. But
if you didn't dive, then you were not an artist in his terms. Without
risk you were just a middle-of-the-road type guy.

~ Maurice Sendak from Writers Dreaming by Naomi Epel

I'm afraid of heights
and sometimes I'm afraid to dive deep into myself.
However, I never want to be a middle-of-the-road type guy.

Inviting all my creative friends to join me in taking the plunge
today and every day.

Self-Exposure

Posted on April 4, 2012 by Tracy Abell

Creative writing is a harrowing business, a terrifying commitment
to an absolute. This is it, the writer must say to himself, and I must
stand or fall upon what I have put down. The degree of self-exposure
is crucifying. And doubt is a constant companion. What if I am not as
good as I thought? is a question that always nags, and can cripple.
~ Walter Kerr

image from morguefile.com