I can’t imagine my childhood without birds.

From the moment my siblings and I awoke, we were birdwatching. As we ate breakfast—oatmeal or Raisin Bran or, on special days, pancakes!—we looked out the broad kitchen window that overlooked the feeders and fruiting bushes in our backyard. Sparrows and finches and other small seedeaters fought for space at the feeders or seed on the ground. Cardinals and Blue Jays provided loud splashes of color while Mourning Doves watched from their phone line perches in distinguished disapproval.

The drive to school was a time to spot hawks on telephone poles or tree branches, catch pheasants high-stepping through the dried- out corn fields, or watch waterfowl wing toward the big river that flanked our town. And on weekends we took our binoculars out into the fields and forest behind our house, searching for new lifers.

The excitement of seeing a brand new bird was what I lived for in those days. It wasn’t till I was older that I began to appreciate species I’d seen before, like visiting old friends instead of making a new one. I was a dutiful list-maker, ticking off each new species in the back of my bird book, dreaming that one day I would have a life list as long as my father’s.

I don’t.

But I still have the book. And I’ve checked off a few more names over the years, often with my children in tow. Growing up in the city provided them less birdwatching opportunities than my childhood had, and at sixteen and twenty years old, they don’t call themselves birders. But they can put a bird in a binocular lens on the first try, and they know how to make the pshh-pshh-pshh sound to draw birds out of the bush, and they can tell a buteo from an accipiter by its silhouette.

They are surprised that all their friends don’t have these skills, as well.

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My review of Fly with Me

I absolutely love Fly with Me. My grandma loved bird watching, and so do my parents. I never learned very much about birds, but I know the basic ones that live around me. The first robin means spring is coming. Hearing a woodpecker trying to make it’s way into my house when I’m a sleeping teenager means I’m going to be in a bad mood (just had to throw that one in there).

This book has so much diversity in it. It’s got something for everyone. The photography is beautiful as are the poems, and the facts and information included are enough to keep you and your kids busy for a long time. You definitely need to check this one out!