In the very first week of the pandemic, I was walking through my local wetlands with my dog. The sun was just rising, and I felt overwhelmed by the silence and uncertainty. Then I noticed a strange bird moving through the reeds... big dark eyes, a delicate bill probing into the mud. I looked it up and discovered it was a Latham’s Snipe. I was stunned.

This little shorebird flies thousands of kilometres from Japan to Australia every year. While my own wings felt clipped, it was quietly continuing its ancient migration. That moment opened a door to a whole new world. Not long after, I was gifted my first binoculars. That was the beginning of me becoming a (weekend) birder.

I love Australian birds, and there are so many I haven’t met yet. My golden ticket would be to spend a year exploring northern Australia and discovering the unique birds that live there.

I’d also love to return to Japan, a country close to my heart, to see the Red-crowned Cranes of Hokkaido. Their elegance and cultural significance feel like the perfect mirror to the way birds connect us across continents. 

For me, birdwatching is as much about people as it is about birds. Through my podcast Weekend Birder, social media and meet-ups, I get to chat with an incredible community of bird lovers who inspire me every day. Birdwatching has also become an informal mindfulness practice for me. It gives me calm, perspective and joy.

I always return home feeling lighter and happier. Birdwatching has taught me that the boundary between ‘us’ and ‘nature’ doesn’t really exist - we’re all part of the same story (and ecosystem).