NY Times: birding at Point Pelee
My father walked nimbly along the path, pointing his binoculars skyward. “Look,” he said to me, “there’s a Blackburnian warbler.” For a second, as I focused my binoculars, I caught the warbler’s distinctive orange-and-white plumage. I looked again, and it was gone. Birding, I was realizing, is an ephemeral pleasure: beauty suddenly appears and then just as suddenly vanishes, leaving you with a longing to see it again. I suspect that no matter how many birds you see, how many species you check off your list, this longing never goes away.No doubt more than few folks can concur.
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