A gorgeous day, a set of Outdoor Learning backpacks, some new resources purchased at the Reifel Bird Sanctuary, and a couple of primary classes ready to embrace learning outdoors, all conspired to create the conditions for miracles in the Livingstone Garden this week. We grouped in the library for Twitching 101:
- Everything in the backpack goes back in the backpack (binoculars, compass, magnifying glass, waterproof notebook, pencil, ruler)
- If you can’t see through the binoculars, ask a friend for help
- Take good care of the binoculars and put them back in their special case
- In Vancouver, the mountains are north – Use this information to check your compass skills
- The new resources from the Reifel Bird Sanctuary are kept in Backpack #1. Feel free to use them and then return them to the bench in the garden.
- The birds are most likely to come closer if you are very quiet.
- There are several sources of food for birds in the garden. See how many you can find.
We converged on the garden. Nothing close to quiet was even remotely part of our Twitching endeavours. Yet, our recent Green Thumb Theatre production had brought a new level of cool to “twitching” – the British term for people out in search of rare birds. In our case, we’re happy with any birds. Frustrations over binoculars that didn’t work were overcome. Sea gulls were spotted in front of the mountain view. All the budding twitchers looked north, some checking the direction with their compasses. None of the usual “murder of crows” appeared. The chickadees were scared away from the bird feeders with the commotion. Then it happened.
“The white head one! It’s an eagle. It’s an eagle! Look!”
“A bald eagle. I’ve seen one before.”
“I’ve never see one but I know they are alive”.
“Look the seagulls are chasing him.”
“He’s circling. It means something!”
And then the second bald eagle appeared. More euphoria from the group. One little girl with saucer eyes, runs up to me with the laminated Pocket Naturalist Guide shrieking, “But where? Where? Where is it?”
I paused to help her find the birds of prey section. My scanning finger hit the Bald Eagle. She looked down. Looked up. Looked down and looked up again. And what did those eagles do? They defied logic and flew closer to the noisy kids in the garden. Perhaps they knew, they were the superstars of our bird watching venture.
“It’s a miracle,” gasped my wide eyed twitcher, still clutching the British Columbia Birds – A Folding Pocket Guide to Familiar Species (2017 Waterford Press Inc.).
These are the pinnacle moments every educator strives to experience with their students. At these times, the joy of the learner is paralleled by that of the educator. It is miraculous and defines why teachers love to teach.