Birdwatching Backstory

I enjoy birdwatching.

Things weren’t always this way.

I used to be a far more active, interesting outdoorsy individual. For a great stretch of my life I was a dominant soccer player, then an avid backpacker, for awhile I immensely enjoyed boxing, I was a pretty good paddler (water, not heinies)… but through time and circumstance all of those activities fell into dormancy, if not by the wayside altogether. The last man standing, so to speak, was birdwatching.

My knees, once memorably described by a close friend as “spaghetti”, will no longer tolerate frenetic sports. There are precious few hiking trails near this city of 6 million and certainly no campsites. Even the locals dare not enter the only water available, a muddy and occasionally reeking river daily violated with raw sewage from the teeming urban masses. However, my eyes are as sharp as ever and my ears have yet to lose their sensitivity despite the deafening airhorn blasts of passing trucks.

And so I have become a birdwatcher.

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