Lauren McKinley 4/6/26 Lauren McKinley 4/6/26

New Neighbors

I have new neighbors, sort of. They are attempting to move into one of the trees behind my house. They are a pair of Chestnut-Backed Chickadees.

A few days ago, I noticed one knocking softly (for me) on the tree, then taking a short rest on a nearby branch. That continued for a long while, then a snack on my feeder, then back to it. Eventually the mate flew in and relieved the hard work for a bit.

Males and females take turns digging out the nest cavity, after (of course) the female selects the location. Then, the female will select the nest materials and build the nest. The male will hang closely to defend if needed. Once the nest is built, the male will feed the female while she incubates.

I have witnessed this dance before, in a few different parks. It is magic. I am elated that they have chosen our tree, near our feeder, and that they do not seem to be bothered by the activity on our balcony.

The cavity is not facing the balcony, but that’s ok, it’s not as if we would be able to see inside anyway. I am happy enough to just simply observe the process.

The nest cavity digging can take up to 7-10 days. Today I witnessed a pair of black-capped chickadees try to take over the nest, while the chestnut-backs were out. It thankfully did not last. although I proclaimed aloud that any way that it goes is the way it is supposed to and I will be glad. Or at least, I will try to be.

My husband said it was like a tele-novela, and he’s not wrong.

I have also heard an Anna’s hummingbird close by, as well as observed a pair of bushtits gather their own nesting material. I am hopeful that I will be lucky enough to have other nests nearby our balcony for viewing.

Happy spring!

Lauren McKinley 4/2/26 Lauren McKinley 4/2/26

Community found.

I heard somewhere, to find a community, you first need to find a hobby. But not just a hobby- a passion. Looking back over the past three years, I have to admit that it’s true. It’s the whole “work on yourself first” thing, and then the rest falls into place.

I have always loved birds, especially as a kid. I had a vast feather collection in an old, rather large shoe box that I hodge podged a collage to. The collage was magazine cutouts of birds, my mom helped me. Anytime I would find a feather on the ground, I would put it in the box. The most magical feathers were gifts. One time, at a pet store, a store clerk noticed at how I was trying to pull tiny feathers out of the bottom of a Macaw’s cage. She laughed at me - all of 5 years old - and disappeared into the back. She came out holding a few large blue and gold feathers that she had recently cleaned out of the cage. Another time, my grandmother gave me a few tiny feathers from a Ruby-throated Hummingbird. She had found them around an old nest that she had saved.

I have vivid memories of carrying around feathers, holding them behind my back and pretending to be a bird.

When I was 7 years old, I decided that I wanted to study birds. We were living in the Netherlands at the time, and I was watching some show about albatross seagulls on BBC. I saw researchers measure their wings, put bands on their legs, and examine their nests. I was absolutely certain that this was my career path. Of course - life happened and I drifted elsewhere.

I had always talked about buying some binoculars and officiating my birder status, but it wasn’t until we moved here to Oregon that I finally did it. After a quick search on the internet, I ordered a decent (and cost effective) pair of Bushnell 10×42. Birding walks became an after-work and weekend ritual. A few months in, as I was struggling to take an iphone photo of a Red-tailed hawk through my binoculars, I had that moment. The “WTF am I doing?” moment, because after all, I am a photographer! So, after much research I invested in my first long lens: the Sigma 100-400. For a while, it did the trick. But then I wanted more, I wanted to be able to SMELL the birds through my photos - metaphorically of course. This obsession was real, so I invested in my current lens: Sony 200-600.

The after-work and weekend birding rituals continued, and the obsession never went away. I found myself driving to parks on my lunch breaks, occasionally coming back late after finding an owl. My birding walks were always alone - except when my husband came along. Birding felt like therapy and in my mind, required a deeply present state to connect with nature in the way that I wanted to. Birding in groups seemed like the opposite - and for a long time, I avoided it. While I would occasionally see and speak to a few other birders out in the parks during these walks, we usually shared the common perception of needing it to remain solo.

Finding community felt hard, and now I realize it was most likely due to the fact that I was actively rejecting it. I got a phone number here and there, but it wasn’t until I met my friend Mel that a true friendship emerged. I was on a lunch break, at a park near my work. She was off that day. We chatted for a moment about the kinglets dancing around the creek. I asked if she was on instagram, and she replied that she didn’t have social media. I began to say farewell and she asked for my number.

My solo birding walks continued, but with a few social walks sprinkled in. Building a friendship with Mel was easy, and birding with her was fun. She knew when to listen for a bird, pause the conversation, and then continue. She too, was in tune with our surroundings, and we remained connected to nature - together.

After seeing a meetup listed for a bird walk, I asked her if she’d like to go. It was at one of our favorite wetlands, through a local birding community group. Fueled with coffee, we met with the group for a morning walk. It was a rather large group of around 15 people. I was amazed at how much fun I had, as it turned out - the more eyes the better. The group had varying knowledge and experience, some photographers and others with their binoculars. I realized that this was the missing ingredient, so we decided to join in on more walks.

After two group walks, we decided to volunteer to co-lead walks together. We filled the group’s need for walks on the west side, and they welcomed us with open arms. We have now led two walks, and have our third and fourth scheduled for April. Our last walk had over 25 people!

Since joining in on the group walks, we were inspired to create an event company that specializes in bringing birding nonprofits and bird conservation fundraisers to local breweries and vineyards. We are now hosting our first event in June. ALL of this happened because of community. In just a few short years I went from fumbling around with binoculars, to making a best friend while doing what I loved, to co-leading bird walks and starting the event company. All thanks to the birds.

Finding this sense of community has gifted me the guidance of purpose, the thread that makes my passion tangible and more meaningful. I cannot wait to share more about our event, and to see what other surprises this year has in store for us!

Lauren McKinley 1/29/26 Lauren McKinley 1/29/26

Hit the road - find the birds.

I told myself that I would write more, and although putting words down is somehow more intimidating than just uploading photos, I am going to keep my word. I saw a quote just moments ago that said “Done is better than perfect.” It resonated so here we are - I will take that sentiment into this blog post.

Weekends have traditionally been reserved for driving somewhere new to find birds. As we are still newish to the Portland area, this isn’t a hard task as most places remain unfamiliar territory. Although a vagrant Snowy Owl had once again been reported on the coast, we decided to take the back roads to the Eugene area instead. A birding friend had tipped me off on a good spot to see Short-eared Owls. I do not take tips like this for granted, because owl locations are usually off-limits to any and all who ask. However, this was not a super secret spot as it had also been reported on E-bird, and even if you went, you weren’t guaranteed to see them.

Owls are incredibly special birds, there is something spiritual about encountering one in the wild. It almost feels like they choose you in that moment, to see them. I have spent many hours observing two different pairs of owls. And even though I know the parks and areas that they live in and frequent, I sometimes go a month or two without spotting them. So, I went into this trip knowing that I may not see one, and that was ok. Birding is mostly walking, listening, observing, and connecting with nature. Sometimes I walk away without any photos and I still feel grounded, fulfilled. On more than one occasion I have found myself walking through a park and thinking, “where are all of the birds!?” But, that’s birding. That’s nature. We’re on their schedule, their timing, and it’s not forced.

On our way, we saw a Red-tailed Hawk on almost every powerline post, fence, street light, and even in a perfectly lit bush right off the side of the road. We weren’t surprised, yet it almost became comical as they were EVERYWHERE. I half expected one to be in our backseat looking back at us in the rearview.

We arrived an hour before sunset, which was the perfect time to see these owls. We saw a couple of cars parked ahead on the side of the road and drove towards them. You never know what the overall vibe will be when approaching other birders. I for one, when birding alone, do not especially love to be approached. However, there was a friendly looking group near a gated parking lot so I decided to try my luck. I was relieved when they smiled back and invited me into their immediate viewing area.

It wasn’t long before we spotted the first shorty. When I tell you that time stood still, it did. But only for a nano-second, and then it became a blurry fast encounter with a lot of “I hope I got the shots!” We saw at least three owls total, and a just as many Northern Harriers. At one point, two of the owls engaged in some sort of dueling aerobatics. It was exciting but they didn’t stick around long enough to tell what it was for.

In a nearby field there was a large pond with several waterfowl and a circling Bald Eagle. Across the street a herd of Elk lingered in the tall grass, glowing gold and blending in with the landscape. Nearby a flock of Western Bluebirds flew into view. It was fun to see them dancing around weeds, little blobs of blue in the diminishing light. We stayed until my iso was in the 5 digits. We said our goodbyes to the other birders, ever grateful for their kindness. Once strangers, now friends - feeling like a part of something much bigger. I surely do love the birding community.