Bridget Butler
The Faster One Goes

It had been weeks since I sat in nature. With the new job and the onslaught of holidays, I couldn’t recall the last time I went out and sat on the land and visited with the birds. No matter, I have my routine. I have places I’ve built deep connections with that I’ve returned to over and over again.

But, it wasn’t that simple even with the routine. As I walked out to the Sister Rocks along Lake Carmi, the never-ending conveyor belt in my mind of job tasks, family needs, meetings, and balls dropped all creaked to a slow roll but never stopped. I greeted the Sister Rocks and the trees, apologized for my long absence, and started to unpack my slow birding kit: folding stool, a fleecy blanket, hot tea, and my bins. I pulled out my notebook and colored pencils just in case I was inspired to write or draw.

The Faster One Goes

slow birding

Saunter, Gaze, Linger

Saunter, Gaze, Linger

When Song Sparrows arrived back in my yard I could feel that inner hum of excitement for birds that are returning to the landscape here in Vermont. After being absent for many months, that first glimpse is electric, captivating, and full of warmth and hope. Over the next two months, if you make yourself available and present, this can be a daily dose of endorphins that will carry you through mud season and into the full green regalia of spring in Vermont. Imagine too what would happen if you made the choice to shift your birding intention from one of identifying each migrant and not missing a wingbeat to one of casual, almost leisurely welcome to whoever arrives wherever you are. 

Growth & Gratitude

Growth & Gratitude

Here we are, coming full circle once again. We’re entering a quiet time of year that can be cozy and full of reflection. Last month, I shared with you all some thinking around kith and kin; our connection to the landscape and other beings - especially birds! I continue to hold these relational thoughts as I look back on this year and look forward into the next. My slow birding practice has grown and evolved so much over the past year and I’m grateful to each of you who have shared this year with me either through a course or a workshop or even a simple correspondence through email. This last month of the calendar year, I’m holding some time to reflect, to celebrate, and to express gratitude. And as I do that, I’m finding a very clear path for my work in 2023.

Maybe this is a time of reflection for you too! I’m practicing this in a few ways, I have some questions I’m asking myself and then a few actions to remind me of where I’ve been that will help me dig a little deeper into my reflection.


On Kith & Kin

On Kith & Kin

As we head into November, a season of gratitude and returning to the earth, I’ve been thinking about an interview that has stayed with me all year. It was a podcast with Lyanda Lynn Haupt, author of Rooted: Life at the Crossroads of Science, Nature, and Spirit. She was talking about the phrase “kith and kin” and how over time we’ve lost the meaning of the word kith. When she explained and defined “kith” as meaning country, land, or home, it was like a reverberation through me. This is a word I need.

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Nature's Messages

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Nature's Messages

The kiddos and I were watching the Blue Jays noisily decend upon the platform feeder in our backyard. You could hear their raucous calls from a couple yards away. They were youngsters we thought, by their messy crown feathers and not so sharp colors.

I’ll admit, I was a little annoyed by their bawdy presence, and then I checked myself. This is the seasonal shift that Blue Jays are cueing us into; they’re one of the messengers of fall.