Birding Facts and Myths 

Once you get hooked on birding, you might be surprised to discover it's not just about birds. You've studied the field guides. You've listened to so many bird song recordings you chirp in your sleep. Now you're thinking about taking your obsession, er, hobby to the next level.

Perhaps, while you've been watching birds, you've also been observing other birders (who often flock together during fall and spring migrations), hoping to pick up a few tips. What does it take to become an "elite" birder? Top-rated gear? The proper clothing? Access to the latest technology? A trust fund?

If becoming a better birder is your goal, you'll need to sift through the abundance of misinformation out there the same way you'd search through 400 or so marbled godwits hoping to find a single bar-tailed. But rest assured that a pragmatic approach will separate the facts from the myths so that you, too, can live your best birding life.

You need to identify every bird correctly. Hahaha — oh, you were serious? This is a myth. Even the experts don't get it right every time. Imperfection is OK in birding — it's a learning experience. And you'll never find a kinder group of folks. I recently flubbed an ID on a public forum and everyone was laughing with me. I think.

You need the best gear. This is also a myth. You don't need anything more than a decent pair of binoculars, and there are plenty of good quality, affordable bins out there. What you want is another matter entirely. If, at some point, you wake up in a cold sweat after dreaming of top-of-the-line Swarovskis and a maxed-out credit card, you're, well, normal.

You need to learn the lingo. This is true. Birding has a language all its own. It's helpful to know how to "pish," what a "mega" is, what it means to "dip," or if it's good or bad to "dip on a mega." (It's bad, believe me.) If you were going to Paris, you'd brush up on your French, right? Case in point.

You need to be able to identify other birders. This is a myth. Most birders can't identify each other by name. For instance, I addressed a fellow birder as Jim for almost a year before I found out his name was Dave. Face it, by the time you've mastered the field marks of the 500-plus species that hang out in Humboldt County — not to mention the handful that occasionally drop in and cause a stir — there's very little space left in your brain for less important things, like filing your taxes or getting a name right.

Because this is such a widespread issue among birders, an acceptable workaround is to say, "Hey, didn't we meet at the Nelson's sparrow stakeout last year?" Or you can accurately identify their dog.

You need to take photos. Another myth. While it's true that birding and photography go together like peanut butter and downy woodpeckers, it's not necessary to photograph the birds you see to maximize your birding enjoyment.

But there's no question it can add a fun and artistic element to the experience. Now, you may notice that some birders have pretty impressive equipment. But just as certain birds display bright colors and elaborate aerial displays — well, you get my drift. A lightweight camera with a built-in zoom might be perfect for you if you don't like to lug around a lot of gear and just want a keepsake photo of that calliope hummingbird you waited two hours to see. In the rain.

You need a decent pair of boots. Undeniably true. Studies have shown that the best birding spots involve standing in cow shit.

You need to know your flora. This is a myth. If you bird with others, you will, at some point, find yourself in the stressful position of having to quickly and accurately describe the location of a bird relative to its surroundings. A lot of birders are well-rooted in plant taxonomy and will speak fluently of ceanothus, hydrocotyle and ribes. But you can get the job done just as effectively using simple descriptive terms. For example, I now characterize all flora as "green stuff" or "brown stuff." (True, at a recent stakeout for a vagrant blue grosbeak I did have to add "purple stuff," but those were exceptional circumstances.)

You need to know your non-bird sounds, too. This is actually true, to prevent the embarrassment that may ensue when you contact the local bird expert with a recording of a suspected blue-gray gnatcatcher that proves to be, in fact, a chipmunk. Not that I ever did that. Same goes for sounds made by car back-up alarms, tree frogs and automatic watering systems.

You need a big life list. This is a myth. Not everything in life is a competition and birding, at its heart, is a simple activity. You just have to love and care about birds. That alone makes you an elite birder, no matter what your numbers are. By the way, mine are up this year.

You need a smartphone and birding apps. A qualified "true." Technology has found its way into birding to the point where it's almost indispensable. There are apps for identification and for reporting rare birds in real time, GPS links that pinpoint a bird's exact location and online checklists viewable by other birders. "Chasing" a rarity has become the norm.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Perhaps you remember a simpler time when finding a cool bird meant listening to the local rare bird hotline or checking the clipboard of recent sightings that used to hang inside the door at the Arcata Marsh Interpretive Center. Birding was and is an escape from the frenetic pace of a rapidly spinning world, a connection to the innate joy of being in nature, a pastime that brings us back to a stress-free place of inner peace and quiet contemplation ... hang on, that was my phone.

A purple gallinule at the Arcata Marsh? Gotta go!

Sarah Hobart (she/her) is a freelance writer based in Humboldt County.