How do you bird when it’s just too hot to move?

One way could be birding by ear, a useful skill in any case. Another could be just browsing a bird book.

Think of the dawn chorus. It can be enjoyed in the semi-conscious drift-up from sleep, with no need for hiking or tick-repellant. Sort out sounds like instruments in an orchestra: Cardinal, Robin, Carolina Wren…Song Sparrow.

As for books, could there be a greater pleasure, on a hot summer afternoon, than reclining in the shade with a cold drink and a book? Unstructured leisure is an under-appreciated aspect of study. And what better time to discover the quaint charms of old bird books?

Consider Fieldbook of Wild birds and their Music, by F. Schuyler Mathews. Printed a hundred years ago, with fine illustrations, liberally seasoned with musical notation, it’s worth browsing for sheer beauty of language. And although some information has changed, wisdom about people has not.

“There is no bird which compares with the Wood-Pewee in sheer laziness of style,” Mathews writes. Quoting Eliot Cowes, a contemporary: “its presence is soon made known by its oft-repeated melancholy notes seeming to speak of a sorrow that can never heal.”

Dismissing Cowes for indulging in “maudlin sentiment,” he philosophizes, “everyone to his own mind… a bright little poem from the pen of J.T. Trowbridge gives us an entirely different impression of the bird’s character, so there is no doubt but that pure sentiment is at the bottom of the whole matter.”

Looking through the prism of time, we see our own reflections mirrored. We can’t help adding our own personality to science; but to be aware of how it happens is a step toward wisdom.