Photo by Shayan Ramesht, on Unsplash.
Birding, like hunting and fishing, is devolving into a recreation defined by gear rather than skill…
— from “Bare-naked Birding” by Ted Lee Eubanks, in ‘Birding’ magazine, July 2007.
When I first heard about bare-naked birding, I got totally the wrong idea.
It has nothing to do with your clothing, or lack thereof.
As far as I can tell, the term “bare-naked birding” came from an article in Birding magazine, written by Ted Lee Eubanks. Mr. Eubanks, in addition to his recognized talent as a photographer of birds, was instrumental in developing the Great Texas Coastal Birding Trail in 1993, in cooperation with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department.
I’ve always had the impression that Texans were relatively modest, in terms of appearing naked in public, compared to — say — Californians or Hawaiians. So I was not surprised to learn that “bare-naked birding” actually refers to the amount of “gear” carried by a birder or bird-watcher.
Binoculars. Field guides. Telephoto lenses. Cell phone apps. Amplifying headphones. Who knows what.
From an article by Melanie Kaplan for the National Parks Conservation Association, describing a visit to Big Bend National Park in West Texas:
Over lunch, I flipped through the park’s visitors’ guide and stopped at an article explaining how “bare-naked birding” could be “quite a liberating experience!” The idea was that leaving behind all the potentially restrictive gear — binoculars, telephoto lenses, apps, field guides — allows you to concentrate on using your eyes and ears. After all, paying attention to a bird’s size, shape, behavior, colors, and movement is good practice for a beginner…
…The next couple days, I explored the park in the nude, so to speak, with only my senses to guide me…
We have a sizable population of birders here in my home town of Pagosa Springs, due in part to a large number of retirees with nothing much to occupy themselves. I’m therefore doubly pleased that ‘bare-naked birding’ is unrelated to how people are dressed.
We also have a large population of birds, thanks to thousands of acres for national forest, where birds can hide from birders — fully equipped or bare-naked — should the birds happen to be shy or timorous.
I don’t know how you feel, when someone is watching you with binoculars. Speaking for myself, I don’t especially enjoy it.
This whole topic got me thinking, however, about living ‘bare-naked’.
And all the activities that have “devolved into a recreation defined by gear rather than skill…”
For example. Once upon a time, I could drive from my house to the grocery store without my cell phone or the screen on my dashboard telling me when to turn left or right.
I could take a walk without my watch monitoring my breathing and heart rate, or counting my number of steps.
When I wanted to turn on a light in the living room — instead of telling my electronic assistant to turn it on — I could actually cross the room and flip a light switch.
Before I bought my e-bicycle, I actually had to crank the pedals.
Once upon a time, seems like I did nearly everything ‘bare-naked.’ But not so much any more. And I wonder how this happened. I don’t remember asking for it.
I guess somebody wanted me to own a lot of “gear”… and I actually don’t think it was me.
Far as I can tell, I enjoyed being bare-naked.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all. You can read more stories on his Substack account.