AMATEUR BIRDER

It was early in the morning and I'd just been outside to get the newspaper. “Can you hear the woodpecker out there?” I asked Steven as I put the newspaper on the counter. I grabbed the kettle and began to fill it with water.

Steven listened for a moment. “It sounds like he's banging on someone's gutter.”

“I guess when you're calling for a mate the louder the better!”

“I wonder if it's the same red-headed woodpecker I saw in the back yard the other day.” Steven pointed out the window. “Two of them were digging around in the lawn.”

“They're red bellied woodpeckers.” I turned the burner on and put the kettle on. “The red headed ones are really rare. They aren't around here.”

“But the ones I saw had red heads...”

“I know, but I looked it up and we have the red bellied ones, they also have some red on their heads.”

Steven shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you're more of a birder then I am so I guess we have the red bellied ones instead.”

“I'm not a real birder.” I got a cup from the cabinet and a tea bag from the canister. “I have a pair of binocular and a couple of bird books that's all.” I leaned back against the counter waiting for the water to boil. “If I were a serious birder I'd be wearing the multi-pocketed khaki vest, a wide-brimmed safari hat, and maybe a walking stick, to be a little different then the rest.”

Steven looked confused. “Where did you come up with that outfit?”

“Don't you remember last fall when we went down to Cape May? We were there when they were having the birding convention.”

“Sure I remember.”

“Don't you remember the bleachers they had set up in the fields so that all the birders could watch the fall migration?”

“Of course, I remember that too.”

“But you don't remember how they were dressed?” I was surprised.

Steven took the kettle off the stove and poured the hot water into my cup. “No, I honestly don't.” he admitted. “I guess I was too busy looking up in the sky at the birds.”

“Well, that was your mistake.” I laughed as I grabbed the newspaper and my cup and headed for the table. “I couldn't take my eyes off of some of their outfits. The vests were the best! Pockets everywhere!”

“What are they carrying that they need all the pockets?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “You got me, but their pockets were bursting with stuff.”

Steven sat down across the table from me. “So the only thing stopping you from being a real birder is an outfit?”

“What?” I looked at him confused. “What are you talking about?”

Steven tilted his head a bit looking as if he was trying to understand me. “Didn't you just spend the last five minutes explaining to me how real birders have special outfits and that's why you're an amateur because you don't have a multi-pocket khaki vest?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I'm an amateur birder because I don't have the knowledge the real birders have.” I felt confused. “Geez Steven, if we went by your way of thinking I wouldn't be cooking you dinner tonight because I don't own a chef's hat and chef jacket.”

Steven stared a me for a moment with a look of disbelief. Then he shook his head, “I can't believe this whole conversation started because you heard a red-headed woodpecker tapping on a gutter when you went out to get the newspaper.”

“Red bellied, Steven.” I smiled, then took a sip of my tea and handed him a section of the paper. “It was a red bellied woodpecker.”