I'm a lifelong birder. Some of my very earliest memories are of "helping" my father, who was a licensed bander for many years, tend to his mist nets, although in the beginning, I was really much too young to be of any real help. I dutifully assisted in the keeping of the yard list and was the first in the family to see some pretty impressive additions to the list. One of my favorites was the Pileated Woodpecker, seen on the stump on the south side of the house when I was about ten. I yelled "Pileated on the stump!"; Dad said something to the effect of "No Way!", but his jaw dropped when he came to look out the window at one of our mutual favorite birds from a distance of about ten feet.
Having said that, birding isn't an all-consuming passion for me. I call myself an Occasional Birder, but I suppose Opportunistic might be a better term. I bird when I can, where I can, taking advantage of location and available time. Although I've birded on foot and by car and by boat in many spots and on two continents, I've never taken any special extended trips for the purpose of birding, and the vast majority of my birding time has occurred within 125 miles of Philadelphia's Western Suburbs. I suppose I've missed out on a lot ... strike that, I know I've missed out on a lot, but I'm an Occasional Birder, not a Competitive Birder, so that's okay with me.
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