My love of birds and my father

Perhaps my love of birds has something to do with my father. He loved birds and his attitude was contagious. He once told me that in protecting a bird, one protects all of mankind. It is true, that in general, individuals who love birds are peaceful and gentle. Bird watchers and bird lovers are often individuals who shy away from cruelty.

There are examples in the 19th century and early 20th, for instance, of scientists who hunted birds - thousands of them, some to the brink of extintion - to collect them, simply for the study of taxonomy. There are also those who enjoy birds - on a plate. Others, like my father, who had a deeply contemplative side, and who felt that in watching birds you could discover the deepest secrets of nature, merely take solace in quietly strolling in a natural setting and waiting for these extraordinary creatures to appear and disappear, displaying their natural magic. Birds are as beautiful as their songs are mesmerizing in their complexity.

Persistence, steadfastness, reliability, majesty, precision, generosity are a few of the adjectives which float into my consciousness as I think of birds. More than ever before, as the world - once again - slides into chaos and injustice, as my people again feel beleaguered and massacred, I take refuge in the memory of my father's lessons and in my love of birds.

Returning to nature, watching the beauty of birds' natural tendencies, I find consolation and hope.

I am a collector - always have been. I collect memories, photographs, birdsong recordings by the hundreds. In fact, one of the more fulfilling consequences in having recently moved to a subtropical region, is the ability to watch birds from my own property. The bird fauna is astonishing in northeast Florida. I feel like I have been gifted a private paradise.

A sandhill crane's gorgeous eye, standing tall and proud, trusting

Sandhill cranes resting before their migration south

I remember the day my father passed away. His three children stayed in the room with him till the last moment. As he passed, we opened the windows as a bird briefly flew into the room. We were surprised and stunned. My father had always referred to birds as possible next stations in his transfiguration to the other world. He somehow believed in re-incarnation and he felt - or perhaps hoped - he would return to this earth as a bird. After my father left us, I recall experiences which left me wondering about his theory. There were times when I felt that a bird was watching me, or waiting for me to react. For instance, sailing in the high seas, many months after my father, of blessed memory, died, I would be standing on deck, watching the infinite horizon, when suddenly a bird, out of the blue sky, would come to rest on the handrail near me. Unafraid of my presence and undeterred by the blowing wind of the moving sailboat, the bird would perch for minutes at a time. I figured it was a petrel, one of those birds who skim the sea for small fish and are able to sustain flight far from shores. They do not tend to perch for rest - they are able to fly for thousands of miles.

As a child I had a horrible experience which alas introduced me to human cruelty. A childhood friend with somewhat sociopathic tendencies, had brought an air gun to one of our summer camps. During an afternoon rest, he took his air rifle and proudly showed his friends, among me, how he aimed precisely and killed a small unsuspecting sparrow. I must have been barely 12 years old and yet the cruelty of the deed left an indelible mark in my memory. I remember to this day the horrifying and stinging feeling I felt at witnessing the extinguishing of a life for the sake of human prowess and braggadocio. To this day I feel nauseated by sport hunters. Hunting solely for food is fine - I have no regret eating animal products, as long as the animal is slaughtered humanely and as painlessly as possible. But killing a bird for the sake of demonstrating shooting ability and precision makes me want to cry in disgust.

And so it goes that there isn't a day that goes by that does not bring me the pleasure of having a bird song or watching a bird come to the lakeshore, of the lake in front of our home, to regale us with their grace and beauty.

Teaching the next generation to love and respect animals

A wood stork - large and majestic. Both female and male take care of the eggs and immature hatched hatchlings for weeks

A wood stork - once a species classified as endangered, has been reclassified as threatened. One of the few stork species flying in Florida skies.

The ibis - a very social bird. One hardly ever finds a lonely Ibis.

A flock of ibis birds - always feeding

What a feast - daily blue herons, great snowy egrets visiting our shores. Small birds, large ones, local, migratory, just a carnival of beauty and natural variety. Families of Canada geese, with goslings on tow, what a gift!