I’ve always felt there’s something special about birds. They’re cute, the young are fluffy, they’re often beautiful. They come in all shapes and sizes, and they never cease to spark wonder: from their feathers to their variety of song and calls, to their quirky behaviour or to the intelligence that some display. But, more than just being a pleasing sight, birds showed me that taking time to notice the nature around us can work wonders for our health and mental wellbeing.
Two years ago, stuck in the countryside with no internet to distract me, I found myself lost in a seemingly endless loop of worrying.
My whole focus would be my fears, the adrenaline pumping in my veins and the discomfort gnawing at me. The only respite was the garden birds on the outside bench. I would watch them from behind the window as they flew from the closest tree, plunging towards the seeds we had left them.
Watching the relationship between the different species was fascinating. The nuthatch would drive the great tits and the blue tits away.
Occasionally, a robin or two would pass by and, if I was lucky, a hawfinch. I had slowly gotten used to these birds and their routines, until one day I heard it: a loud, rapid drilling noise in the distance, followed by the loud harsh call of a woodpecker.
As the days passed, I became obsessed with the woodpecker. I needed to photograph it. More than once I spotted the bird and ran towards the oak trees in my grandfather’s garden only to see it fly off into the distance, screeching.
I decided I needed to be more prepared. Instead of focusing on my worries, I would focus on my strategy of photographing that bird. Whenever I stepped outside, my camera would come with me, the telephoto lens attached. No longer did I meander around in flip-flops, sitting indoors, restless. I had my trainers on, ready for a stealthy approach (well, as stealthy as you can be on gravel).
Come rain or sunshine, I was ready. And one day, it paid off. I heard the loud knocking, and rushed out, trying to tame my excitement as I hurried silently to the oak trees. My worries were forgotten, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins was from excitement, not from anything else. Once at the trees, I looked up, and scanned the canopy for movement.
Tap, tap, tap - the loud drilling sound guided me to a patch of red feathers. I trained my camera on the gorgeous, long-awaited sight, and fired as many shots as I could. I don’t know if the woodpecker heard me or not, but if it did it wasn’t fazed. I followed it as it flew from branch to branch, from tree to tree. And then, it disappeared.
I walked back, looking at my camera, my heart racing as I played through all the pictures I had taken. I had done it! And in the thrill of it all, all my worries had melted away, and that day, I no longer thought of myself as being ‘stuck in the countryside’ with no internet, but as excited about being in the countryside, with nature to give me a purpose.
Time and time again since, I find that birdwatching and, more broadly, nature watching, is the cure to my worries. It’s a chance to take a deep breath and reconnect with what really matters. To feel at home. It’s peace that I can’t find elsewhere.
Taking time out in nature helps us become more grounded, more present in the moment so much so that we forget the stress of our daily lives, the worries and uncertainty about the future, or the sadness that might affect us. All of that has melted away, and it’s just you and the nature around you.
So next time you feel a bit down, and the dreary weather might be putting you off, leave the house anyway.
Dress for the cold and face the winter wildlife, because, more often than not, you’re in for a treat, or at the very least, for some well needed peace.
