Come wintertime we tend to retreat into our homes. We wait out the cold there, dressed in our PJs and accompanied by a warm drink or perhaps something stronger. When we do go out, we walk from our front door to our car door and blast the heat all the way to our destination cursing the cold that cracks our hands and lips.
Yet for the brave few who venture out into the winter world, they find something new in the familiar scenes that surround them. The seasons bring something new each year and winter is no different. Some may see this dark season as a symbol of inevitable ends; but for those who venture forth, surely they see the life that prevails in spite of it all.
My wife is just one of those people. She is an adventurer of sorts. She finds no solace in the comfort of routine and familiarity. She needs to be somewhere new, experience something different and this impulse is a blessing because it continues to take us to new and interesting places.
Each year December 30th through January 1st we take a trip to the NC Outer Banks. For many a coastal trip in the dead of winter seems heinous. But for the naturalists out there, it is an ideal time. Migratory birds are in full force and the forest and fields are void of the bounty of spring (beautiful as it may be, the lush leafiness of spring hides much of the nature we are hoping to find).
This past year was particularly cold. We bundled up layer upon layer and walked out binoculars, scope, and camera in hand. The barrier islands are fierce in winter. The wind is unmerciful at best and the icy spray of the ocean is never more than a quarter-mile away.
I remember my wife bundled and smiling. Her voice rising over the wind.
“This is perfect!” she said, her eyes bright and cold.
I couldn’t help but think about my definition of perfect. Were I to define the perfect day on the outer banks of North Carolina, I might leave out the bit of freezing and shivering and discomfort. I might instead wish it to be a moderate 60-65 degrees Fahrenheit, comfortable and calm. I might wish the wind to be someplace else, because its presence is inconvenient as I try to focus my scope which constantly shakes with every gust.
Perhaps if these changes occurred and I could indeed control the climate of my life I’d be happier.
But who says that happiness requires control. Who says that I can’t be happy in the dead of winter or in a storm or when my fingers are wrapped beneath two layers of gloves.
My wife does not allow the rain or the wind or the cold dictate her happiness. She goes out into the world and feels it on her skin and that, that is what is perfect to her. The fact that she can go out and experience every nuance the Earth has to offer. Each season, each habitat, each day.
Winter birding may not be for the faint of heart. But it is certainly for those who are open to the joys that can appear on cold, windy days.