By Peggy Sturdivant

The day after Christmas I was in the Golden Gardens parking lot at 8:10 a.m. (late) holding my yogurt granola and an Americano. The sky was pink, hinting at the presence of a sun after the month’s record-breaking rain.

Since 1900 the Audubon Society has been conducting a Christmas Bird Count, inspired by what had been a post-Christmas bird hunt, with sides competing to get the largest pile of dead birds. I was a tag-along to Quadrant 5A, the Ballard lowlands group led by Master Birder and author Woody Wheeler (Look Up! Birds and Other Natural Wonders Just Outside Your Window). From 8 a.m. until sunset the 5A team was responsible for identifying and quantifying all bird species between Golden Gardens, the Locks and then over the Ballard Bridge.

Lori Cohen had recorded 22 species on the Seattle Audubon’s double-sided list before we cleared the parking lot, and my toes were already cold. Birding sounds like an active verb but it’s the birds who move, at least when you’re patient. Lesson one is how to be still in order to watch and listen, or dressing properly. It was the first of many lessons on count day, including that birders are especially kind and interesting people, that fleece-lined leggings are essential and that the Christmas Bird Count (CBC) is the longest running citizen science survey in North America.

My contributions were slight but the rewards accrued as the species increased. I picked up some bird shorthand (Snowy, Bald, Redhead!) and accepted I don’t have the lips or talent to make the “pishing” sound that summons flocks of birds (which are often mixed in winter). I even learned about crabbing for Dungeness while looking for shore and water birds along the Shilshole docks. I preened like the Kingfisher when I got my first compliment from a fellow counter. “Good eye!” he said, when I spotted the Brown Creeper on the trail.

Then Woody Wheeler explained how to count Bushtits. They’re the tiny birds that invisibly fill an entire bush with birdsong. The answer to the ‘how to count Bushtits riddle’ is: “follow the leader.” One bird flies to another spot and the flock follows the leader. In that repositioning it’s possible to count them, oh so quickly.

Follow the leader, I marveled. And we did too, Woody Wheeler’s knowledge and enthusiasm never waning as I felt my detachment wavering. I’ve been fighting it since childhood but birders could be my people. As with any passionate group they speak a language that spans continents and centuries, a mix of romantic and scientific when it comes to characterizing features, sounds, habitats of anything that exists in nature. Hence the poetry of a passel of Red-breasted Mergansers, the sole Merlin, adjectives surrounding the sighting of a Rhinoceros Auklet…

As the group worked the shoreline, binoculars and two scopes at the ready, I felt more exposed than the one orange-crowned warbler we spotted. I’m the daughter of a bird lover, raised on property abutting an Audubon sanctuary. I’ve grudgingly helped tote 50 lb. bags of sunflower seeds and yet mocked my mother for wading through snow (barefoot) to feed her hungry birds. There were also dead birds in the freezer that I don’t want to explain. Years of avian denial and yet the day’s language and generous company was hooking me: all the birders shared their lunches with me.

So the only chill was in the air as supposedly reserved Seattleites asked questions and the experienced birders rejoiced in the eyes and interest of the thirteen year-old in the group. By Shilshole’s Dock A the species count was at 39 and it was only the end of hour three.

The friend who invited me started birding for herself but it became an instant passion for her son (now a member of Audubon’s Young Birders). She started a Facebook group called Ballard Birders and has been flushing out my reluctant interest with backyard bird photos.

Bird species counted during the annual CBC provide data that are incorporated into national research: the State of the Birds report and the National Audubon Society’s Birds and Climate Change Report. The count is international; this is Seattle’s 87th year of participation.

I parted company with Quadrant 5A at the locks shortly after another binocular-clad group strolled up as our team finished feeding. “We’re the Ballard Uplands,” their leader Richard said. “5B.” They had started their day at North Seattle College. After sunset representatives of all the citywide volunteer groups would meet in Wedgewood (Wigeonwood to birders?) to potluck and report, sharing lists and exceptional sightings. Quadrant 5A totaled 57 species and 1,278 individual birds. They were just one group within the 36 circles in Washington and 2400 nationally.

The next morning a Stellar Jay was waiting on the wire outside when I opened the door for the newspaper to chide me for sleeping past first birdsong. A flock of Bushtits were loud but camouflaged in the dead hydrangea blooms by the porch, reminding me of Ballard’s blessings: not always visible but too many to count.

For more information about classes, monthly counts, guided walks and the final tally: http://seattleaudubon.org/sas/