The Kids Are Alright

Y‘know: sometimes, humbling is good thing. Maybe ALL the time, humbling is a good thing.

Now. I’m a gifted amateur, at BEST, when it comes to birding. Not an expert by any means. But, sometimes, the non-birders in our lives confer upon us the mantle of Bird Expert. You know what I mean: “Hey, how could you tell that that was a FEMALE cardinal?” And they conclude that we’re just being modest when we say, “No, but you don’t understand. It’s just a plumage thing. It has nothing to do with some sort of Superman-like microscopic genital observation.” But we abide, longing to show them what a real bird expert can do.

Case in point: there I was making a documentary about something called The World Series of Birding. On this particular day, I was following one of the kid’s teams (back then there was only 2; now there’s over twenty).

I was shooting them on a scouting mission a week prior to the World Series. We were out on the beach portion of The Meadows run (if you’re an East Coast birder and you don’t know what The Meadows is, shame on you. Email me; I’ll give you the 411). The team and I all looked up at once, towards a raptor coming in off the sea.

Now. I live in Manhattan. I’m a pretty good birder but some things a fellow just doesn’t get to see very often. So my internal monologue was going like this: “Now, is that a Peregrine or a Merlin? Is it just a size thing, or do those outrageously pointy wings answer the question? Perry/Merlin? Perry/Merlin?”

Meanwhile, the “kid’s” team has concluded that:

1. It’s a Peregrine.
2. It’s eating another bird.
3. The other bird is a warbler.
4. The Peregrine has devoured the warbler’s head, but-
5. The warbler is/was a Yellow-rumped.

Boom. Two. And off down the beach they moved.

Now, I was SUPPOSED to be running ahead to catch footage of them coming towards the camera, but I was rooted to the spot with admiration. These “kids” had a level of scientific acumen that might confer upon them honorary doctorate degrees in some other discipline. And I wanted all of my New York City pals there so I could say, “You SEE? THIS is ornithological expertise!”

And these are school kids…

To all of us birders, these kids thrill. Us older folk, we came to the pursuit via contorted paths of derision and dismissal, which we happily ignored. The New Generation advances confidently into the light, 10x bins at the ready, expertise up the wazoo.

If you’re a naturalist, it’s nigh on impossible to find things to feel positive about these days. But this new generation?

They are our future, and they are, trust me, EXCELLENT!