With fifty years of birding experience, I'm excited to be building this community called The Art of Birding. I'm not alone in this, as millions of people now engage in birding at many levels and styles. And so, being curious what ChatGPT would say about this new community, I asked it to describe The Art of Birding. I love this take as if I'd written it myself. And it works, it's the human element, sharing sightings and insights, and creating original art together that goes beyond AI. The art of birding is the practice of observing birds with a blend of attention, patience, knowledge, and appreciation. It’s both a science and a sensory experience — part field study, part quiet meditation. Here’s how I’d describe it: 1. Seeing Beyond the Obvious Birding isn’t just spotting a bird — it’s noticing the flick of a tail, the arc of a flight pattern, the rhythm of a call. A seasoned birder can distinguish a Black-capped Chickadee from a Carolina Chickadee not just by appearance, but by song and behavior. 2. Listening as Much as Looking Birding trains your ears. The forest becomes layered with sound — trills, whistles, drumming. Often, you hear a Northern Cardinal before you see its flash of red. 3. Patience as a Practice You wait. You scan. You adjust your focus. Birding teaches stillness — and rewards it. A fleeting glimpse of a Baltimore Oriole can feel like a small miracle. 4. Learning the Language of Nature Birders study habitat, migration timing, and seasonal patterns. Seeing a Snowy Owl far south of its typical range tells a story about food cycles and climate conditions. 5. Connection and Conservation At its heart, birding builds awareness. It fosters care for wetlands, forests, coastlines — the living systems birds depend on. Organizations like the Audubon Society have grown from that very passion. In essence, the art of birding is learning to be fully present outdoors — to slow down enough that the natural world reveals itself. It transforms a walk into a discovery, a sound into a story, and a moment into memory.

My college education included field #biology, with a taxidermy unit to learn the art of preparing museum skins. Not all collected specimens passed muster due to damage, but I used this wing of a blue-winged teal to study feather tracts, an important type of knowledge in #wildlife #art. In some respects, an #artist looks at #nature from a different perspective than #science. Yet the relationship between #art and #birding, for example, is quite close. Some of the world's most important #scientists were also #bird artists; John James Audubon, Louis Agassiz Fuertes, Roger Tory Peterson, and these days, David Sibley and Ken Kaufmann. Each studied #birds in this way, piecing together observations of live birds from field work and closer study of stuffed specimens. It's a lifelong #business being a working artist. You never stop learning.

While driving back through the fields of western Kane County, I noticed a large shape in the trees between flat, open ground. I pulled the car over and said out loud, "Eagle, whatchoo doin' out here?" Indeed, it was a bald eagle sitting among the fine branches of scrub trees. Not a lake, river, or pond in sight. Just hangin' out where eagles don't normally do that. Goes to show you that birds are unpredictable creatures. You have to keep your eyes open for birds "out of place" because you never know. And also, I saw a fucking hawk, too. He or she was chilling stop a dead old tree in the half-light of a February afternoon. Here's one of my red-tailed paintings from many years ago. And a bald eagle painting too.

I was curious about how many ducks are found in North America, and painted this piece (see last panel) showing all the regular, rare, and known species typically found here. Of course, there are always exceptions, rarities that show up from other parts of the world. Even these duck species are known to wander a bit due to weather and climate conditions, and just because they're birds, eh? I saw a king eider on the Fox River about ten years ago, found by another birder. That's a species normally found far north of Illinois, but some do frequent the Great Lakes, including Lake Michigan. This one wandered 35 miles west. I've also seen Harlequin ducks on Lake Michigan. They're one of the most strikingly patterned waterfowl in the entire country. They show up along the shores of Lake Michigan too. I love these occurrences, especially birds of the far north, the wildest places on earth. What a gift to encounter such species in real life.

A week ago the ice on the Fox River pushed all the waterfowl north toward the St. Charles dam, where this squad of redhead ducks hung out with common goldeneyes. Redheads are obviously named for that russet coloring, but their distinguished gray and black back and chest add to their allure. Females are all brown with that similarly round head shape. They migrate through Illinois from the southern states where they winter, with many preferring shallow saltwater lagoons. Thus, these birds are either headed back north or stayed the winter in Illinois thanks to our increasingly mild winters. This species breeds in southeastern Wisconsin, but also across the entire Great Plains, up through Western Canada and into Alaska. They are "diving ducks" that catch and eat their food off the river bottom.