Restless 28 - Why I Photograph Birds (Even Though I Don’t Care About Birds)
(I’ve posted this on my website but I want to send it out directly, too.)
Yesterday, instead of my usual walk around Nagoya while my daughter was at nursery, I decided to head to one of the city’s biggest parks. It was pouring, and I wasn’t exactly eager to go, but I’ve learned that the worse the weather, the more likely I am to push myself outside. So I grabbed my bird photography gear and made the 25-minute drive from her school.
I wasn’t in the best mood—grey skies, heavy rain, and the nagging thought that I probably wouldn’t get any good shots. But I did. A pale thrush, an osprey with a freshly caught fish, a daurian redstart, and a handful of Japanese cormorants. Birds I wouldn’t have been able to name a year ago.
But what really got me thinking wasn’t the birds—it was why I was even doing this. Why stand in the rain, soaked to the bone, camera in hand? It’s not like I care much about the photos afterward, and I’m not exactly a birdwatcher.
Then it hit me. The act of photographing birds—or any wildlife—forces you to slow down. To watch. To be patient. To exist in the moment with no distractions. And in a world that constantly pulls at your attention, that in itself feels like an act of rebellion.
There’s something about just standing there, waiting, with nothing but the rain and the sound of birds around you. No notifications. No scrolling. Just being. Maybe that’s why I do it.
And the best part? All these very average photos were taken in Nagoya and Kasugai—one of the most urban areas in Japan (but not all taken at the same time).
So if you get the chance, find a quiet spot somewhere. Sit. Watch. Resist the pull of distraction. It’ll do you good.
Here are two recent posts you may have missed:
A Walk Along the River 2 – SeanBreslin.jp
Not two. Probably two hundred. Walking along the river and observing has become addictive. Even while sitting between Nagoya and Kasugai, the Shonai River offers an incredible variety of life—if yo…
