New Binoculars for a Young Birder!

What might inspire a young birder as much as placing a live bird in their hands? [That's my daughter Phoebe with a baby bluebird in her hands.]

Placing a brand new, high-quality binocular in their hands would probably be on top of the list.

When I think about the optics I used for the first 10 years of my bird watching, it gives me a headache (or brings back unpleasant memories of the headaches my old binocs gave me.) I've said this many times before, we are living in The Golden Age of Birding!

Think about it:

• You can buy excellent starter binoculars for about $100.
• You can walk into any bookstore anywhere in North American and buy a field guide to the birds (or mammals, butterflies, moths, reptiles, etc).
• You can get bird seed and a feeder at any number of retail stores in your town.
• You can listen to any bird song in North America on your ever-present cellphone.
• You can get up-to-the-second info on bird sightings on the same device.
• You can brag INSTANTLY to all your birding friends about the Bachman's sparrow at your bird bath, via social media.

I remember the first time I look at a bird through a pair of really nice binoculars. And I also am regularly reminded about the power of good optics when I loan out my extra binocs to young bird watchers on the dozens of trips I lead each year. Hearing the gasp and "WOW!" when they get a really good look at a bird—well it's a special moment because it might just be opening their eyes to a whole new world.


That's what happened to me. And if you remember the moment you sparked on birds and birding, maybe you want to help someone else enjoy that same experience.

Our friends at Leica Sport Optics have joined up with us at Bird Watcher's Digest to find a worthy young bird watcher in the United States to whom Leica will be giving a new pair of Trinovid binoculars. If you read our magazine you know that this model is a top-rated binocular, so it's no small thing to give away. It's NOT a $100 starter binocular. That's why we're calling this giveaway Leica's Great Leap Forward for a Young Birder. We think it could provide that very thing for a deserving young person who is interested in birds.

If you know a young birder who would really benefit from some new (and really nice) binoculars, won't you consider nominating them?

The winner and five runners up will also receive an autographed copy of my new book The Young Birder's Guide to Birds of North America.

Thank you!

Plovercrest Quest

Above the clouds on the Picos das Agulhas Negras road.

Up we went, along a rough mountain road, bouncing over rocks and ruts, some of us regretting that extra cup of coffee and the effect it was having on our jostled bladders. But we were after birds in these mountains and we were willing to put up with some discomfort for the chance to see them.

Along shaded portions of the roadside, impatiens in various shades from pale pink to purple, grew wild, like a ground cover. I thought about how many hanging baskets I'd bought featuring these same flowers. Farther along the road we saw two workers weed-whacking the impatiens to keep the roadside clear.

At certain points in the road, the forest fell down the mountainside and we noticed clouds below us.

Paulo, Chuck, Pete, Terry at an overlook.

Among our quest birds was a Brazilian specialty known as the plovercrest. The plovercrest is a tiny hummingbird found in southeastern Brazil (and parts of Paraguay and Argentina) whose primary field mark is—you guessed it—a plover-like crest. In Brazil, this bird is known by the name beija flor de topete (tufted flower kisser).

Paulo first located the birds by hearing a singing male. This species forms loose leks where males gather to sing and flash their gorgets, hoping to attract a female. After hearing two or three males from the edge of the forest along the road, Paulo got us out of the bus and began scanning for the birds. He soon found the tiny singer and we all took turns standing in the exact place where you could see it through a hole in the thick vegetation. This was how the first bird looked (to my camera):

My very first plovercrest.

I was determined to try to get a photo of this bird, which I'd never heard of before I began prepping for this birding trip to Brazil. So I stepped softly into the shadows and began stalking another singing male. I could hear their chattery squeaks sounding so close, yet the tiny green birds were unbelievably hard to spot.

Spot of sun on a male plovercrest.

I found a single male and got a single frame of him before he split. I plunged deeper into the woods, heading in the direction of more calling plovercrests. For all I knew they might just be forest furies luring me to my death. This did not stop me. In a few years, some campesino would hack down a vine with his machete and reveal some bleached bones, thick dark glasses frames, a pair of Keen sandals, and a really nice pair of Leica 10x binoculars.

I heard human shouting.

Stretching plovercrest.

From back out on the road, Paulo was shouting my name, saying he had a plovercrest that was just dying to have its photograph taken. I stumbled out into sunlight.

Terry Moore waved me over to the spotting scope. There he was. Out in indirect sunlight, stretching, singing, yawning, pooping, then singing some more.

I soaked him in with my eyes, then stepped a few feet closer to take a dozen quick digital frames before he buzzed away.

Our plovercrest quest was a big success. I looked at my watch. It was 8:45 am. We had a LOT of birding yet to go.