Always on the console, between the front seats of my vehicle, sit a pair of binoculars. I never know when I might see an unusual bird, or one that I cannot identify quickly while driving. Then, I safely and lawfully pull off the road and check it out. I am what is known as a fully-law-compliant “birder”.
“Birding” can be much more than just placidly gazing at the feathery animals–for many, it becomes a passion and lifestyle. A man asks his mate what they should do for their vacation? “The Gulf during late May would be a wonderful place to go—after all we might hit the warbler migration as they come across the Caribbean from South America.” A mother might ask her kids where they want to go for a picnic? “Let’s go to Tulelake—the shorebirds are moving through and we might see semipalmated plovers!”
For non-birders (often called “civilians”) the people with this addiction seem strange, awkward and geekish types, who park only half-way off the highway; wear vests with many pockets and shorts that show off their knobby knees; have binoculars bouncing off their shoulders; and tightly grip their expensive spotting scopes (with long tripod legs fully extended). Good people to avoid, many civilians think.
