 350 Columns Ago Today Seven years have gone by (that’s 350 Wednesdays, or column-days as I like to call them) since I wrote my first bird article. I remember well how the drawing in that first column explained the difference between a Barrows’s Goldeneye, and a Common Goldeneye. As proof of that columns usefulness, I’ve had comments from several birders that they now use that method when distinguishing the two species of duck at a distance. After that first column the Wednesdays and the columns continued to roll by. Recently I used a search engine to address a question that arrived by email and up came one of my old stories. At first I recognized none of it, but of course it was mine. Who else would depict a clutch of eggs talking to each other, with the final word balloon revealing that there was an intruder in the nest – a cowbird egg? What is the secret to my consistency? I would suggest about three reasons. The first reason, but not the most important, it pays for my internet connection. A second more important reason is that my column reaches people from all over the world. Everybody likes to talk about what makes their neighbourhood interesting, and I get to swap stories of my neighbourhood with other people. My particular focus has always been on the birds. When I travel to Vancouver, or parts of Alberta, my neighbourhood broadens so I often will include stories about those trips. Many birds have neighbourhoods of several thousand miles – the hummingbirds are a prime example. A hummingbird neighbourhood can stretch from my Cariboo feeder, to the hummingbird’s winter home in southern Mexico. I hope this column sends an intimate look at the area where I live from a birding perspective. My need to paint detailed pictures of the 100 Mile House area echoes my desire to glimpse detailed pictures from other areas of the world. Before I began writing my columns I thought that it would be interesting to know what the birds do in other rural towns, for example, at this very moment in some particular yard what ‘eastern’ birds sing and hop about in Le Pumphandle, Quebec? I’ve received emails from all over the world asking questions or sharing information just as if we were next door neighbours. An English lady asked what she should do with a baby Thrush she found in her hedgerow. Up until then the only hedgerow I had heard of was in a Led Zeppelin song but the answer is universal – put it back where you found it, the parent bird was likely nearby and caring for it. I have had polite requests to use my drawings in various settings – university lectures for example. And one Christmas a bird group in New York asked if they could reproduce one of my bird cartoons to display in a membership drive. I now proudly refer to his event as my New York art show. Presently I am in communication with an English birder about his birding trip through the province of BC. Who better to guide a visitor than a person living in the area and speaking the bird language? I continue to find birds consistently intriguing. There is always something more to learn and there is always ample room for fanciful theories and speculations. I often suggest that when you run out of theories, its game over. After that all you have is facts and boy that’s a dull world to contemplate. An element of writing which bloomed over the years was one I hadn’t given much thought, the art of the word. On the surface words can appear as tools, like the keys on a piano attached to a hammer that strikes a note. If a key is struck on a piano it makes a musical note, if a word is used in speech or writing it causes an image to flash in the brain. However, a single word or a single note doesn’t make art - all the notes on the piano and all the words in the dictionary don’t add up to art either. Art happens when the words or the notes join human experience and sing together. I am not for a moment suggesting that my columns are art only that in doing the column I have had moments when words were more than tools. If there is a downside to writing a weekly column it is coming up with material during portions of the year when the birds just are not doing anything newsworthy. Thanks to Brent who scans, cleans up my sketches, and gives my column the once-over, before sending the whole thing off to The Netshop. I remain computer illiterate and wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how to prepare the graphics, or columns for posting. And so it goes. It’s now the month of May and the birds perform marvellously well. Currently I have no shortage of story ideas. Here is a short list: The appearance of Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks at Bradley Creek. A walk I conducted at Betty Place. Another walk I conducted with a Beaver troupe around 100 Mile Marsh. An update on my 22 bird boxes at the 101 Marsh. Rather than cover any of those stories, I have decided to pat myself on the back on the occasion of my 350th column. Because I am not generally a creator or maintainer of traditions I have even impressed myself with the consistency of my columns. And thanks to all the readers out there who take the time to read my ramblings. Let us continue into that mystical world of nature – a world that speaking of does not make richer, yet somehow seems to bring closer. (Congratulations on your 350th column anniversary Tom. If the 25th is silver and the 50th is gold then the 350th must be feathers. B) To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
