It finally happened—I’ve taken up streaking. No, no, not the kind that would get my wrinkled old 50+ body thrown in jail, but checklist streaking: recording at least one bird checklist every day. Which means, among other things, birding each day. It’s an obsession, albeit a mostly benign and low-impact one, that started accidentally around Thanksgiving. Maybe it was the tryptophan, maybe the general stress of the holidays, or maybe just how the shortening of the daylight hours subliminally foretold the waning of my years. Regardless of how it started, it’s taken on a life of its own now, this streaking. Luckily it seems benign, even potentially beneficial. Because I am streaking:
- I am forced outside daily to breathe fresh air;
- I carve out at least fifteen minutes birding every day, and among other things that pause helps reset my attitude when needed;
- I have to actively plan to go birding, which leads to planning other goals and activities as well;
- I feel more disciplined (it’s unclear if this is a reflection or a reinforcement of the discipline I have been forced into by PD–pill regimens, biking, boxing, etc.);
- I can escape if I want—while I am birding I don’t have to talk, I don’t have to be self-conscious about tremoring or shuffling, I don’t have to interact with others at all if I like; and
- I often must survey suboptimal habitat, and as a result I appreciate even the very common bird species.
Of course, as with any borderline obsessive behavior, there are some stresses associated with it: When will I have time to bird today? Did I remember my binoculars? Will my coworkers (weekdays) / family (weekends) think I am nuts? Will I get enough species so I don’t have to explain a low count to eBird? Will this rain ever stop?
How long will I be able to keep the streak going?