“Your call is important to us.”
Few sentences in the modern world have caused so much quiet despair while sounding so reassuring.
The typical sequence is well known. You dial a customer service number. A cheerful recorded voice welcomes you and assures you that your call is important. You are then invited to press several numbers to help route your call more efficiently. After pressing the wrong one, then the right one, and finally the one that was apparently correct but still wrong, you are placed on hold.
Music follows. Occasionally interrupted by the same voice reminding you that your call continues to be important.
Eventually, a human representative appears. You explain your problem. The representative listens politely and then informs you that, unfortunately, you have reached the wrong department. They kindly provide another number that you should call. Presumably, your call will be important there as well.
Now consider the birder.
Birders also spend a surprising amount of time waiting for calls. The birds, however, do not begin with a recorded greeting or offer any menu options. They simply call. Sometimes repeatedly. Sometimes from deep inside vegetation where visibility is approximately zero.
The birder, having arrived early and usually carrying equipment of slightly excessive weight, hears the call and reacts immediately. This does not necessarily mean the response is efficient. There may be some hurried fumbling with binoculars, a brief attempt to remember what the bird actually sounds like, and a certain amount of looking confidently in entirely the wrong direction.
If the call repeats, the birder may attempt an identification. Perhaps it is the descending whistle of a thrush. Perhaps the dry chatter of a babbler. Perhaps something unfamiliar that will lead to several minutes of intense speculation, consultation of a bird app, and the eventual realization that it was a very common species calling in a slightly unusual way.
Unlike a customer service system, however, the birder does not transfer the call to another department. There is no Press 2 for woodpeckers, press 3 for warblers, press 4 if the bird is behind you.
Instead, the birder moves slowly toward the sound, scanning branches and bushes with great seriousness. This often produces the impressive result of flushing the bird before it is actually seen.
Sometimes the caller appears: a small bird that was responsible for far more noise than its physical dimensions seemed to justify. The birder observes it briefly, perhaps adds it to a list, and then waits for the next call.
Sometimes the bird never appears at all. It called once and fell silent, leaving the birder staring thoughtfully into a perfectly ordinary bush.
“30492-office-figures” by tec_estromberg is licensed under CC BY 2.0.














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