How Birding Amplifies Art
- jamesnewton18
- Feb 6
- 3 min read

It's the first week of February - where all New Years Resolutions go to die.
I can see all of the dead and gone resolutions now, passing before us like the faces of dead Hunger Games tributes. There goes Going To The Gym. Ah, Meal Prepping; I was feeling so good about that one until about January 8th. And who could forget No Sweets Except on Weekends? That one really had potential.
For a picture book writer and illustrator like myself, a dozen or so new ideas come to me in the new year for how I can improve myself with new habits and routines. Some say artists are whimsical creatures that are afraid of structures and systems, but I'll be the first to admit how desperately I need them. I already have a lot going on, though, so I thought I'd pass on resolutions and goals this time around.
Then I realized something when I was out on a walk last month - I had started doing something new this year that was undoubtedly helping me out as an artist. It wasn't a new weekly planner system or time blocking strategy, though. It was birdwatching!
Imagine, if you will, a pack of skinny high school cross country runners. They just finished their run in the muggy Midwest September heat. They're all joking around, drinking Gatorade, until suddenly: one of them squints at something in the sky and starts sprinting towards his car. The others laugh. "What's gotten into Brendan?" Brendan ducks into his tan Toyota, retrieving something from his glove box. Brendan swivels, shoving the retrieved object up to his face. Binoculars.
"It's a golden eagle, guys!" Brendan yells. The other runners laugh and continue on with their post-run conversation.
I was a doubter. I thought Brendan was being a little silly for paying such close attention to birds of all things. Brendan, if you're reading this, here I stand, hat in hand, twelve years later, humbly apologizing. I totally get it now.
On the surface, birding is about spotting, counting, identifying, and cataloguing the surprising variety of birds in your own neighborhood. But beneath that, birding is about observation. It's about being aware of your surroundings. It's about being mindful of the present world you are in. In other words, it's my ticket out of distraction, muddled thinking, sometimes even writer's block.
The best part (other than being able to hear a bird and say "Oh wow, a tufted titmouse!") is that birding is a habit that takes exactly zero extra hours out of my day.
An example:
A struggling writer is stuck on a specific action scene for his novel. He takes a 30 minute walk to clear his head. He thinks about the action scene. He tries not to, but in trying not to, he thinks about it more. He is further buried in frustration.
Or: A struggling painter is stuck on a specific subject's posing in her new piece. She takes a 30 minute walk to clear her head. While walking, she scans the power lines, tree lines, and bushes for birds. She spots five eastern blue birds, a red-winged blackbird, a red-tailed hawk, and two nuthatches. She lets herself focus on her walk and delights in creation all around her.
Which one do you think came back to their desk with a clearer head?
I know I sound like a broken record when paraphrase Gary Schmidt, but: creativity is all about noticing. An artist that doesn't notice has no source of inspiration. Birding has helped me to notice the world more and get my mind off other things that vie for my attention. If that sounds like something you might like too, I'd recommend downloading the Merlin app by Cornell Labs. It can help you (most of the time) identify birds accurately and give you a good feel for what birds to look for in your area. From there, you can download the eBird app made by the same organization and keep a record of your observations. Plus, the data helps the creators of the apps track bird populations. Neat!
Thanks again for stopping by the stoop, and I hope to see you again really soon.
If you're coming here from Facebook or Instagram, consider subscribing so you don't miss the next one.



Comments