"The fact is that no species has ever had such wholesale control over everything on earth, living or dead, as we now have. That lays upon us, whether we like it or not, an awesome responsibility. In our hands now lies not only our own future but that of all other living creatures with whom we share the earth."
— David Attenborough
Experiencing a lull in birding can be likened to witnessing a setting sun. As the sun descends, casting its golden hues across the horizon, there's a palpable sense of transition — a shift from the vibrant, blazing daylight to the tranquil embrace of twilight. Similarly, in the realm of birding, this lull represents a gradual descent, a moment when the fervor for spotting new species or observing their behaviors dims momentarily. It's akin to the sun's descent where the once brilliant glow starts to wane, painting the sky with softer shades.
During this phase, much like the diminishing sunlight, the excitement of spotting birds might dwindle, and the usual rush of adrenaline from a new sighting might fade into a subdued appreciation. It's a time when the sky of fascination seems a bit dimmer, and the urge to seek out feathered friends might lose its intensity.
In the broader context, this lull in birding mirrors life's natural rhythms — an intermission in the orchestra of exploration. It's a phase where the silence isn't empty but pregnant with the promise of a crescendo, waiting for the return of passion and the rediscovery of the enchantment that first lifted the spirit skyward.
Experiencing a lull in the captivating world of birding is like wandering through a tranquil forest where the usual symphony of chirps and calls seems to have faded into a gentle hush. It's a natural ebb in the rhythm of fascination, where the feathers that once fluttered with excitement now seem momentarily still.
For a passionate birder, this phase might feel like a quiet interlude, a time when the binoculars hang a little heavier around the neck, and the yearning to spot that rare species loses its usual fervor. The skies might seem a touch less vibrant, the trees a tad more ordinary, and the absence of the usual avian companions can leave an unexpected void.
Sometimes, a lull in birding isn't about losing interest but rather a chance to rekindle the flame. It could be the perfect juncture to explore alternative approaches, whether it's delving into bird photography, jotting down reflections in a journal, or immersing oneself in bird-related literature. Perhaps it's a moment to step back, allowing the absence to amplify the longing and reignite the thrill of anticipation for the next season.
All images © 2023 Mike McDowell