With many, many, many apologies to Wallace Stevens, who does not deserve what I am about to do to his most famous poem, here is my take on the Superbowl of birding, which has been covered almost exhaustively already by my teammates on the Bloggerhead Kingbirds, Andrew, John, Christopher, Mike, and Nate. So, without further ado, here is “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Superbowl of Birding.”
A Superbowl team must
see many birds in only twelve hours.
There is no time
to stare at blue.
In the long hours of competing
one learns how a
drop of water
feels as it
The ocean obscures as much as it
One must flow with the waves not fight them. The distant dark and light birds
are out there
awaiting birders’ words
to make something of them.
Twelve eyes stare at one
Then twelve eyes stare at another
Superbowl teams stay close because it is the rule. When parking is illegal
stays in the car and watches the watchers.
Many grains of sand make a dune.
Many species of bird make a Superbowl of Birding.
Many bad jokes and puns make the Bloggerhead Kingbirds.
One bright eye above looks down
while obscuring many things.
It would be nice to have it as a teammate in the Superbowl of Birding.
The score does not tell
of the day.
Unless you win a prize in which case the score is all anyone needs to know.
Parking lots are
your voice is your binoculars
and your ears are your eyes.
Many birds means
Few birds means
Never stop looking.
Never stop seeking.
Never stop searching.
Until 5 PM. Then stop and
One man looking over waves tinted by dawn is a birder
but six men looking over waves tinted by dawn is a Superbowl of Birding team.
Birders are more difficult to herd than cats and their eyes go every which way.