A recollection of my first Big Garden bird watch in 2022 and why I will take part every year from now.
By Leslie M Lampe, Community Communications Officer since January 2022
The afternoon of the 29th January 2022 is windy and cold. But the sky is glorious. Flocks of thin, feathery clouds travel across its pale blue canvas, tainted by the pale yellows of the already setting sun.
I have never done nor heard of the Big Garden Birdwatch until I started my first job at the RSPB a couple of weeks ago. Eager to learn as much as I can about my organisation and its work, I’ve signed up.
And I am determined to do it right. I read the guidelines and watch a handful of videos with tips and tricks. I print the PDF “common bird identification sheet”. I fill my thermos flask with hot tea. I take my identification sheet, a pencil, my pillows and a woolly, orange blanket and sit down outside the French doors of my garden. I encourage my boyfriend Stanley into joining me. Having just moved here, we have no garden furniture, so we sit on the ground on our picnic blanket.
Young couple taking part in RSPB Birdwatch, (credit: RSPB)
I know from reading the Big Garden Birdwatch guide that it doesn’t matter how many birds you see, even if you see none you make a valuable contribution to the data set. Even so, at first I get hopelessly competitive. Our house is a new-build, so our garden is nothing more than a patch of lawn at the moment. I am not expecting flocks of birds to show up. So, sitting perfectly still, I tensely stare up to the trees surrounding our garden. I scan our wooden fence. A magpie lands on top of our little grey shed in the corner and I am delighted. I note down my sighting. Stanley compares me to a 5-year old on a treasure hunt (which is a very accurate observation). Whenever I spot a bird, I beam at him, suppress an excited squeal and scribble away on my little Identification sheet. 20 minutes, some starlings, sparrows and a wood pigeon later, Stanley gets too cold and goes back inside.
Filling out the RSPB birdwatch sheet (credit: RSPB)
Sitting there alone in the crisp January breeze, my 5 year old excitement and fierce concentration slowly evaporates. I sink into a calm kind of slumber. I am still spotting and counting birds but instead of conscious anticipation, I now listen to the rustling in the trees, I watch the branches dancing in the wind, I watch the flocks of clouds slowly floating across the sky out of sight. All of this is utterly and effortlessly beautiful. The sounds and smells feel fresh, earthy and calmingly familiar. My breathing slows down, my muscles relax, despite the cold.
My body reacts to thoughts that reach my brain with a slight delay. I have missed nature so much. I was born and raised in Germany, but the air, the earth and the winter wind smell the same in Cambridgeshire. The birch trees bend in the breeze the same way. I recognise the flight of the birds and insects. Despite the cascades of sickening headlines about dwindling forests, desperate animals and collapsing ecosystems that crowd my Instagram and Facebook feeds since I have started work in the environmental sector, nature is still here and it is still alive. Despite all the pollution and decline, despite all the sealed surfaces and scorching summers, this birch tree still stands. That magpie is still here. In all their effortless beauty and quiet defiance, they flood me with a more profound hope and in turn with a more profound, positive motivation than my anger and cynical, grim determination could ever produce. Neither the magpie, nor the birch tree will give up as long as they have got any strength left. So why should I?
Last year, we lived in a small flat in London, whose only windows looked out into the courtyard of our flat block. Even though I have a garden now that is surrounded by trees, other people‘s gardens and countryside, I regret not having done the Big Garden Birdwatch there in previous years. I am sure I would have seen so much more wildlife and nature than I thought was there, If I only had taken enough time to be still for a moment to listen and watch. It would have broken up the concrete cage I felt I was trapped in, especially during the last two years. It would have reminded me of my indestructible bond with nature and wildlife of which I am still a part.
To sign up to the big garden birdwatch 2023, follow this link: Big Garden Birdwatch | The RSPB
Starlings adapting to an urban environment, (credit: RSPB)