I don’t know exactly how it started, but I remember the day my eldest told me she was into birdwatching. Cool, I thought. I can totally see that. She had always been an animal lover, beginning with her dinosaur phase at the age of four. Birdwatching quickly became excellent gift-giving fodder for the next few years.
Since I had a friend who had always been into birding, I reached out to ask what kind of binoculars my daughter would need. Then came the books — field guides, a logbook, Complete Birds of North America — and Wingspan (the board game). Soon she was talking about migration hotspots and all the different places she wanted to visit to see certain birds.
When she mentioned Florida in January, the perfect Christmas present hit me immediately: tickets to visit Grandpa in Florida during peak migration season.
That trip was the beginning of my commitment.
I spent most of the week kicking myself for not bringing my “good” camera with the superzoom lens so I could get decent pictures. We saw over 30 new species on that trip, and all I had to show for it were grainy iPhone photos.
But something shifted for me on that trip.
It opened my eyes to something I never expected to enjoy so much. There’s something magical about spotting a bird you’ve never seen before, hearing someone excitedly whisper, “There it is,” and watching a tiny moment turn into a shared memory.
And honestly, what parent doesn’t love seeing pure joy on the face of their child?