Birding in place ... or bird-watching from a recliner

Jan. 18—The Before

You are standing in a south Georgia swamp in the summer, and you know the temperature for the day is close to 100 and the humidity level is 95%-plus. Your body, your soaked, "sweat-wicking" clothes, and your worry about camera equipment not withstanding, such moisture will tell you this is not a smart way to go birdwatching or "birding." Never mind that you can't see the water moccasins, and just because you have not heard any alligators bellowing, you can't assume one is not near. A cartoonish appearance of one big, yellow eye with its frozen pupil like an interrogation lamp would not be amusing, nor would a lightning-strike sweep of a long tail that blends in with logs.

But the majority of the time you really are not thinking about all that could go wrong with this birding adventure in the wild, because you get to observe the birds up close. A Yellow-crowned Night Heron is about 15 feet away from you, feeding. Little Blue Herons chime in to make their presence known, and their displeasure of having to share the watering hole with larger birds is coming in loud and clear. Limpkins a little farther back, behind fallen trees, emit high-pitched and eerie screams, and you are also in the world of two Black-crowned Night Herons, wrestler-thick necks among the mostly thin-limbed wading birds.

All the while, your camera is taking photo after photo, in this place that is both silent and deafening with the sounds of nature, of which you feel part even though you know in this space you are not in control of the food chain.

You don't immediately tell your wife when you come home that on the way out of the swamp, just before reaching the shore on a man-made dirt road, you took one wrong step and slipped atop a Cypress tree root, that wonderful system of ladder rungs that has brought you deeper into the swamp without having to risk getting your boots stuck. Or that you thought your left arm was broken, after your misguided attempt to cushion your fall with the priority of holding up the camera with your right to save it from the swamp. And that particular day, when you drove down the last dirt road, a shortcut before pavement, excited about going home with a camera of bird photos and a mind and body full of experiences, your wrist still aching like a word not fit for a family newspaper, you navigated to avoid a puddle on this take-me-home Georgia tray of red clay, not knowing your vehicle was about to get stuck, you only digging a deeper hole for your wheels, trying to outsmart a power that sucks you in: south Georgia wet clay.

The In Between

It was a lot of fun, that birding expedition. And foolish, perhaps. But never fully admit that something fun is not always the smartest activity in which to engage.

Many reading this would not be inclined to volunteer for the wonderful experience I just described. Various reasons exist for making such decisions, such as common sense, intelligence, responsibilities at home during the weekend, budgetary reasons (add a recovery-fee charge in addition to the towing cost of a vehicle stuck off the paved grid), and also the real fact that many of us, while enjoying spotting and observing birds, are not always so mobile in a bipedal way as to be able to "get out there where the birds are" (along with the ticks, mosquitoes, horseflies, rattlesnakes, the creatures that evoke a big "ouch" or "eeeh" from most human beings).

The After

Enter "birding in place." As of right now, I am a reformed birdwatcher or birder. The back porch is one of my fields, and I am Adam after the fall, fig leaves on a tree being robbed of its fruits by birds a gift offering instant gratification for the winged creatures and the human sitting on the steps watching return flight after return flight, the feeding activity by the birds such a fast priority that the only thing I might complain about is not getting a clean shot with my camera because a leaf is in the way or a bird is moving too rapidly for a slow shutter speed to capture it without motion blur.

But mind you, I am writing about birding in place, which means you do not need a camera. You also do not need binoculars, though they can come in handy if you want an excellent, out-of-this world magnification of a yard bird. Or you can employ your smartphone and swipe the screen to magnify what you see as much as possible and zoom in on birds close by. No need to move in increments toward a bird in the woods only to have it fly away. You can even see a bird with the naked eye if you sit still enough.

Here are some recommendations and basic elements you will need for birding in place. I guarantee that once you have had the experience you will never go back, unless you find yourself waking up a superhero one morning capable of braving the elements and afraid of nothing that comes with long excursions.

Water: Birds need and love water. See if you have any discarded packaging material at home that could hold water. A microwave plastic tray will do. Use the shallowest tray you can find, or at least fill up the container with just enough water so that the birds feel comfortable to take a sip or a seated bath with wings splashing from your improvised, shallow bathtub. If you want to spend more money, go to any store and find some kind of baking pan or serving tray on clearance and fill it with water.

I cannot emphasize enough that the depth of the water should be a few fingers at most. You don't want birds to drown or to stay away because you have created a water source that is too deep. If you want to spend money, buy a ceramic fountain. Otherwise, birds are just as happy to drink tap water out of the bottom of a chipped saucer. If you insist, they will drink bottled water, including any brand we as humans do not like, the point being, you can fulfill the birds' needs on a miniscule budget or spend entire paychecks to establish your birding-in-place world.

Food: Like humans, if you put out food, they will come. But please do not put out junk food for birds (or human beings). If you are budget-conscious, and most of us are, and a novice bird enthusiast, you might be tempted to put out bread that has gone stale or is moldy. Don't. Even the most expensive loaf of bread you can find, fresh from a bakery, cut into tiny, tiny pieces for your yard singers to enjoy, is ill-advised caring. Bread can have negative health effects on birds. Only Disney birds in movies with unrealistic expectations survive a trail of crumbs.

If you have fruit lying around the house, that apple you did not get around to eating and now surely don't want, cut it up into little pieces and put it out. Some birds will approach. Bruised apples do not offend their aesthetic sensibilities at all.

If you have flowers or any vegetation in your yard, chances are the birds will find food. If you garden and compost and worms inhabit the rich soil, you will have the opportunity to witness birds getting the worm at different times of the day. Despite any innate richness in your yard, birds, like humans, go where the buffet is easy to reach. This means you should go out and buy some bird seed.

When you see the store shelves, you will be overwhelmed, maybe even wonder why we have so many choices and so much bird food when millions of people in the world are starving. Putting that awful thought away for a second, do not buy the least expensive bird seed. Why? It usually contains filler, materials that birds will scatter all over your yard to try to get to the few black oil sunflower seeds this "bargain" buy consists of. So go ahead and splurge and buy some black oil sunflower seed. You just might be delighted by random sunflowers sprouting in your yard, without the growth that would sprout from the inexpensive bird seed.

You and the birds will be richly rewarded. Besides, you already saved money on the microwave-dinner bath tray, and if you went all out to buy a ceramic fountain, stock up on several bags of sunflower oil seed and peanuts, along with suet, and various bird feeders, including the hummingbird feeding stations.

You don't need a bird-feeder, a store-bought one, to feed the birds so that you can sit on your back porch overlooking your sunflower seed baited yard. But at least put the seeds in a place that is close enough where you can see the birds without scaring them away. Experiment to find the shortest distance possible between you and the birds. A brick, a rock, any sort of object that can contain the seed and onto which birds can land works just fine.

Even better would be a feeder hanging from a branch or shepherd's hook. You can improvise and I am certain you will come up with solutions better than I am suggesting, both for a shepherd's hook and a feeder. Anything resembling a flat surface to which you can attach any sort of string to at least three corners of what becomes a miniature feeding tray table will work. The bottom part of a milk jug also works as a feeder tray, and it will help contain some of the seed. The challenge, at least for me, when improvising a tray feeder, is that when I tie the strings together in a knot on top (each string is attached to one side of the feeder tray) to create a tray feeder that will hang off a tree, post, nail, PVC piping, I have to get the tray to hang level. But a pair of scissors, a whole ball of kitchen twine, and some eye-balling along with patience, will conclude in a positive outcome.

If you are willing to spend a small amount of money to buy a bird feeder, buy an inexpensive one and fill it with seed, saving you from improvising your feeder. But do not allow manufacturers to manipulate you into buying an expensive feeder with promises of "squirrel proof" or "lasts a lifetime." Go with an inexpensive feeder and after wear and tear, you will be able to afford to buy several for the cost of a top-of-the-line model.

A Cup of Coffee and other Human Creature Comforts: When I mentioned birding in place, I had in mind not only a backyard, but any place. Even a parking lot will provide great birding, though I recommend you stay in your car because walking fixated on birds among traffic should come with a warning label attached and written by lawyers, much like the top of a ladder that says "no step here." The best of birding in place, whether you have a yard or not, is to bird in place in other people's yards.

Now I am not suggesting you randomly pick a house and enter the backyard and make yourself at home. These days, that would be a proposition almost as dangerous as birding on foot in a parking lot. Instead, bird your way in place around the yards of friends and acquaintances in 80 days. This can be an excellent opportunity also to interest other persons in beginning birding.

I had a particularly wonderful birding in place experience the other day at my friends Alan and Peggy's house. I sat on their covered back porch, protected from all the elements, in a cushioned chair with a side table. My friend Alan brought out coffee, and there we were, he with his binoculars, I with my camera, birding and intermittently talking, hearts leaping like those of bird nerds that we are, at the sight of a Yellow-throated Warbler, in a steady stream of 16 species that frequented the bird feeding station. Sure, absent were the alligators, water moccasins, ticks, slippery surfaces of Cypress trees, but the adventure of birding in some ways was more intense because the focus was more on the birds, without having that subconscious warning instinct turned on that you bring into the wild. I even embraced civilization by stepping inside the house and not using a tree to take a restroom break.

This is not to say that I will not return to the wilds. However, I have experienced now that birding in place really is a satisfying and wonderful activity, so I can honestly recommend people give it a try. If you do, I would love to hear from you and be honored to be allowed to share in your experience and discoveries.