“if you want to get into birding” by Isabella Crow

you will need a good pair of binoculars

or at least remember to wear your glasses.

helpful as well is a pair

of trustworthy boots.

and patience. you will need patience

ideally driven by the kind of centered peace that comes

from having nothing better to do with your time.

you should also be lonely or else

the birds will not come and you

will not care enough to wait.

a field guide of sorts is helpful but

you can also make up your own names (the spotty one, mr. redhead, big hair)

if you’ll remember those better.

you’re here to make friends. birds like it

if they can know your name too

so either introduce yourself or be

a hollow shell, be

some flesh-colored cobwebs, be good nesting material

if you were dead in the earth you’d be worth more to them. kick the soil occasionally

be reminded that rot is closer to life than death

and remember to bring a pair of gloves because it gets cold

this time of year. the geese aren’t even home yet.

you aren’t even home yet.

if you want to get into birding it’s helpful to remember

that black birds flock together and you’ll surely find grackles

amongst the cowbirds and red-winged sorts. so be careful not to flatten

all the dark things you see

into one species of hurt. I mean bird. I mean it burns

your eyes to stare into the sun. (bring a pair of sunglasses! polarized and uv coated!)

attach some sort of meaning to each creature

and forget that a bird is just a bird and a tree is just a tree and you

are just a person, which should be a relief, that the goldfinches

will still turn yellow whether or not

you pay attention.

maybe there’s birds on another planet! maybe there’s space birds! maybe there will be birds

long after you die and birds in heaven and birds in the version of the afterlife where you go if

you just want to see how it all turns out.

lace up your boots

tight. yoke the binoculars around your neck. and go out into the woods

and see all the beautiful things

that will continue to be beautiful

no matter what happens to you.

Isabella (“Baz”) Crow is a second-year economics student, artist, and writer. They are a Hopwood laureate, an editor of the Every Three Weekly, and a two-time Caldwell Award winner, whose work has been featured in Xylem Magazine, Writer-to-Writer, and the LSWA Literary Journal. They make art and coffee for Argus Farm Stop and do economic analysis for the Institute for Social Research.