This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.
All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Many thanks to Jim K for the fine editing work.
Song lyrics contained herein remain the exclusive property of the original artist.
This work may not be copied or distributed without the exclusive written permission of this author.
*
The lady standing next to me heard my knees crackle as I squatted down in the bookstore.
There were three different field guides for North American birds east of the Rockies. She watched me in amusement as I struggled to stand up with a copy of each in my hands.
Two had drawings of birds, the third, by the Audubon Society, had photos of birds and the book was narrower, more suited to slip into a pocket.
"If you're looking for a field guide, you should pick that one," she said pointing to the one by Roger Tory Peterson.
I must have had a puzzled look on my face as I regarded the woman. She was fiftyish, maybe a year or two younger than me. Slender, good looking but dressed like a school teacher with knee length plaid skirt and button up sweater. I liked her stylish glasses, not so sure though about the chain around the neck holding her glasses on.
"Oh?" I said flipping through the book. It seemed to me that photographs would give a more accurate portrayal of the bird than a colour drawing.
She seemed to read my mind. "Bring all three and come with me. I'll show you," she smiled and walked off towards a table with chairs around it.
Yes ma'am. I followed her silently.
"Sit down and give your knees a rest," she said motioning to a chair. I sat down. She sat in the chair next to me at the end of the table.
She opened up the Audubon book and flipped through a few pages, then turned the book to me. There were four photos of 'Duck-like Birds' shown.
"What are the differences between the two on the left?"
They looked the same. White ducks with brown heads and brown tails. Even the eyes were the same color. One was labeled Redhead the other Canvasback.
"I don't know," I answered.
"Take the book and keep the page," she instructed. She opened the Peterson book and flipped through a couple of pages, then turned the book to me.
There were ducks all over the right side page and written descriptions on the left page.
"Here are your two birds, right here," she pointed with manicured pink fingernails to the top two entries on the page 'Bay Ducks (Divers).' Each entry showed a male and female. Sure enough one was Canvasback the other Redhead. They looked like completely different birds.
"Wow," I said. She smiled at me.
"You see, they even show them in flight." Her slender finger pointed to smaller drawings next to the main ones. "And the description is on the opposite page."
"Cool," I said. I then opened the Audubon photo style book back up. I still couldn't see a difference between the two photographs.
"The Peterson guide is the standard used by birdwatchers," she said with just a hint of authority.
"You're a birdwatcher then?" I asked. I noted a lack of wedding or engagement rings.
"Used to be. I used to be a lister. Now I just enjoy being outdoors occasionally. And I love birds. Do you?"
"I do, but what's a lister?" It sounded like a boat with too much water in it.
There was a little bit of surprise in her face, as if everyone should know what it means.
"A lister is a birdwatcher that keeps a personal list of every species of bird they've seen."
"Oh. How many different birds have you seen?"
"Oh gosh. I don't know. Hundreds I'm sure." She sat herself upright.
"So have you seen every different type of bird in this book?" I asked holding the Peterson guide.
"Oh heaven's no," she waved her hand, then with a curled finger in the air said, "but there are some that will make that effort. It's a sport to them."
"Really?" I like sports. I flipped through the Peterson book. Northern Shrike, Loggerhead Shrike even in the drawings they looked the same. There were colour coded maps at the back of the book.
"It's a hunt for some. Many take photographs as proof."
"Do you take photos too?" I asked, my nose still nuzzled in the field guide.
"I did, but gave it up. It's too cumbersome to lug all that equipment around. Then in the end you are missing the beauty of the bird in its natural environment because you're fiddling with the camera. No, for me the satisfaction is simply knowing that I've found the bird." She smiled very warmly.
She really was a good looking woman. She had shoulder length, straight, light brown hair, high cheekbones, perfect skin, the lines of age were there but there was no wrinkling. Her face was feminine, straight teeth over thin but emotional lips. Her jaw and neck were very feminine. Her nose was straight.
I guessed that the glasses were reading glasses. They had a bright blue plastic frame with different little squiggles of colour built in. Her glasses were attached to a chain which hung like jowls giving her the instant impression of an older lady. Did she realize?
She must have caught me daydreaming. She startled me a little when she asked, "Do you get out often to see birds?"
"Ah...Lovie and I like to go for a walk through the woods. Sometimes I see birds and they're different from anything I've ever seen before. And I always wondered what kind of bird they are. Hence the field guide interest."
She smiled at me. I saw her eyes were blue through her reading glasses.
"So do you go bird watching often?" I asked.
Her demeanor changed a little as she answered, "Not anymore really, I used to go with my husband."
"Oh," I said. But no wedding ring. "What happened?" I soon as I asked that I wished that I didn't.
"He passed away three years ago," she said softly.
That's why I knew I shouldn't have asked the question. How do I fucking do that all the time? "I'm...gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up. Please forgive me."
She half grinned at me and said, "That's alright, you weren't to know." She took a deep breath and then added, "Traipsing through the woods alone is not what a single girl should do."
There was something in the tone of her voice when she said that gave me the impression it was a deliberate opening. Her expression was blank.
She took off her glasses letting them hang on top of her breasts and gazed in my eyes. Her eyes were indeed blue. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful face. Beautiful woman.
"So, let me ask. Bird watching is a bit like hunting?"
She smiled softly, the left upper lip curled in the cutest way. "It can be, you have to make up your own rules, or simply enjoy the birds and being outdoors in the fresh air."
I was intrigued, "So you track down a particular species?"
"I did."
