A Birding Birthday Adventure: Soul Birds, Surprise Guests, and the Magic of Slowing Down - May 2, 2025

For my 46th birthday, I decided to do something that’s become both a ritual and a refuge—head into nature with my camera for a birding photography adventure. What could be better than spending the day with birds, in the quiet company of trees, water, and wingbeats?

Birthdays are bittersweet for me now. Another year without my mom. Another year without my dogs. Their absence is felt most on milestone days like this. But nature has a way of holding my grief without judgment. Birding helps quiet my mind and heal my soul. I don’t know why birds have become such a lifeline—I’ve stopped asking. I just follow their call.

I also received some lovely birding-themed birthday gifts, beautiful books, art prints, a bird-themed hat, a Starbucks gift card to fuel my photo adventures with iced matcha, and a bouquet of flowers. I’m so grateful for the thoughtfulness behind each one. They added even more joy to a day already filled with feathers, wonder, and wild magic. Thank you—you know who you are.

This birthday, I didn’t rush. I moved slowly, deliberately, taking time with each bird. I wanted to capture not just images, but presence—to witness their behavior, their personality, their joy. With most birds nesting right now, I knew I might come back with few photos. I told myself I had no expectations... well, except one. I hoped, just maybe, I’d find a Sandhill Crane. I knew the babies weren’t due for a few more weeks, but I couldn’t help but hope.

Let the journey begin!

The first birds I met weren’t shy. In fact, they found me. A bustling gang of Red-Winged Blackbirds, all ages and shades, came swooping in looking for seed. Some even flew right to our hands—especially cheeky with my aunt, who was birding with me as my trusty spotter.

As she chatted with one of the blackbirds nibbling from her hand, it tilted its head as if it understood. Their iridescent black feathers shimmered in the sun, while their brilliant red epaulets glowed like badges of honor. One stood out to me—slow, deliberate, sorting through seed with care and a bit of messy gusto. I named him Barry.

Later, a blackbird came flying straight at us, full speed from the marsh, landing on my aunt’s knee like some kind of feathered toll collector. "Snack toll, please!" We paid in seed. I named him Maverick for his bold entrance. That moment alone would’ve made my day.

After a rest, we carried on and found one of my soul animals—a Bald Eagle, perched high in a pine, calling out to a partner soaring above. I managed to catch him in flight, too. There’s something in their call that reaches into my bones. Fierce, majestic, strong... I’m not sure how it relates to me exactly, but I feel it deeply.

Did You Know?

In bald eagle relationships, it's often the female who stays at the nest, loudly squawking out commands or alerts—while the male soars high above, circling like a feathered security drone. These power couples work together with precision: she guards the home base, and he scouts for food or intruders. Their vocal exchanges can sound like a squabble or a love song, depending on the mood—because even in the bird world, communication is everything!

Then my aunt spotted another eagle basking in the sun from a distant tree, overseeing her world. Just living. Just being. A lesson I’m still learning.

Far in the distance, perched on a weathered pier post with British Columbia’s iconic mountains rising behind him, a bald eagle stood tall. Though barely within reach of my lens, the scene was pure West Coast magic—wild, majestic, and unmistakably Beautiful BC.

And then—a first for me. As I crossed a bridge, I noticed a bald eagle perched in a tree nearby. Something made me glance across the road, and that’s when I saw it: a large nest tucked into the branches. I spotted a flash of white. Could it be? I pulled over, heart pounding, and lifted my camera. To my amazement, there she was—a female bald eagle sitting in her nest. I was in awe—not just of her presence, but of the nest itself. It was massive, a true feat of natural engineering. How they managed to gather all those heavy sticks and balance them perfectly among the branches was beyond me. Bald eagles aren’t just hunters—they’re incredible architects. I did my best to photograph her from a respectful distance, in awe of this intimate glimpse into her world. An unexpected birthday gift I’ll never forget.

Soon, a flurry of Tree Swallows zipped by like aerial acrobats, building their nests in nearby boxes. The males sparkled teal and white; the females glowed bronze in the sun. They busied themselves with fluff from nearby cattails, completely unaware of how dazzling they were. I smiled just watching them.

Did You Know?

Male Tree Swallows love to perch dramatically on the highest, tiniest branch they can find—like feathered landlords surveying their kingdom. It’s not just for the view—it’s their way of showing off to potential mates and rivals. The message? “This is my branch, my nest box, my swamp. Welcome… but stay in your lane.” Bold, shiny, and full of swagger—just how they like it.

At one point, I caught a male Tree Swallow mid-preen, carefully fluffing and smoothing his brilliant blue-green feathers. When he finished, he turned and looked right at me—feathers still puffed out—as if to say, "Did you just take my picture? Well… I can't blame you. I am handsome." I couldn't help but laugh. Total diva energy.

“Some days, the birds are the only ones who know how to hold your heart gently... and other days, they puff out their feathers, strike a pose, and make sure you know just how fabulous they are.”

Later, I spotted another male Tree Swallow perched perfectly in front of a backdrop of golden reeds and bullrushes. The soft textures gave the scene a painterly effect—like nature itself had brushed the background just to highlight him. He definitely noticed me, but didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think he allowed me to take his photo—probably because I called him handsome at least three times. Flattery will get you everywhere with a swallow.

And then came the soft buzz buzz buzz—the unmistakable sound of an Anna’s Hummingbird. Perched nearby in a tree, glowing red and green, he seemed impossibly small, but full of life. Just living boldly, simply, fully. A reminder I needed.

Just when I thought the day couldn’t bring more, I heard a sound I didn’t recognize. A tiny bird sang its heart out in the reeds. I aimed, hoped for focus, and caught my first Marsh Wren! A new species for my list! Whether it was warning its friends or singing a solo ballad, I’m not sure, but it felt like a gift.

And finally... the one I came for.

Samuel the Sandhill Crane appeared out of nowhere. I had been scanning a small lake when I turned—and there he was. Just standing behind us, as if he had always been there. We offered him seed, and to my surprise, he let us hand-feed him. I took my time photographing him—his red-crowned heart-shaped face, sandy-bronze feathers, and those incredible prehistoric legs. He looked like a creature from the Jurassic era, ancient and wise.

In that moment, it was just me and Samuel. The world melted away.

A local told me he’s now on his own, no longer with his parents. Maybe that’s why we connected so deeply. I'm parentless too, and on my birthday, that pain surfaces. But Samuel was a reminder: you can find your own way. You are enough.

Of course, I couldn’t resist capturing a few snaps of Samuel from every angle—including the classic butt shot. Honestly, it’s become a running joke in my wildlife photography… it’s like the animals know. “Here comes Jennifer—quick, show her our best side… or better yet, our backside!” Every outing, without fail. Samuel didn’t disappoint.

I stood in absolute awe of Samuel’s feathers—a breathtaking mosaic of colors and patterns. From soft greys and sandy browns to rich bronzy coppers and snow-white highlights, each feather seemed perfectly placed, like brushstrokes on a living canvas. The closer I looked, the more detail emerged. Nature truly outdid itself with him.

As I reflect on the day, I realize I’m doing it—I’m healing. I’m living my dream of wildlife photography. I’m finding my way. Slowly. Steadily. Joyfully.

Birds are more than just subjects for my lens. They’re teachers. Guides. Reminders of resilience. On this birthday, they gave me everything I needed—and more.

BONUS: A Ditch Surprise and a Birthday Gift from My Mom

As we drove down a quiet country road on the way home, something caught my eye—a flicker of movement in the tall grass along a ditch. Something was peeking out, waiting to cross the road when no one was looking. My camera was in the trunk. A dilemma: do I risk spooking it by moving? Or do I drive on and wonder what it was? I scanned the empty road. No cars. I sprang into action like a ninja—quick but quiet—and grabbed my camera.

The animal darted back into the ditch, understandably nervous. I stepped closer, slowly, carefully. Then—crunch—one wrong move, and it bolted out of the ditch and into a nearby farmer’s field.

It was a pheasant!

At first, I thought it was a partridge, but my aunt gently corrected me. A pheasant. My second time ever photographing one—and incredibly rare where I live.

Did You Know?

Male pheasants don’t just show off with their dazzling feathers—they’ve also got a bit of wild flair in their eyes! With fiery red facial wattles and a sharp, intense stare, they often look like they’ve just had three espressos and are late for a bird fashion show. Their vibrant colors—shimmering golds, greens, and purples—are all part of their strategy to impress the ladies, while the females keep it low-key with earthy tones that help them stay hidden from predators. Drama and style, all in one bird!

I felt elated—this, I knew in my heart, was a birthday gift from my mom. Her way of saying, “Here you go. This will make you happy.” And it did.

As I journeyed home on the ferry, watching the sun dip low over the water, I quietly reflected on the day—and on Mom. I felt her with me in every bird, every breeze, and every quiet moment of wonder. It wasn’t just a birthday; it was a reminder that I’m still healing, still growing, and still finding magic in the wild—just as she would have wanted.

A huge thank you to my amazing Aunt for spending the day birding with me, spotting wildlife, sharing snacks, and laughing through every unexpected moment. Your company made the day even more special—and I couldn’t have asked for a better birding buddy.