Pishing in the Woods, a poem

PISHING IN THE WOODS

for birders

by Larry Richardson

I am a birder,

Which is quite a mystery to most;

And brows are raised as

“it’s my favorite thing!” I boast.

A lot of people

Understand that birds are fun to see;

And that binoculars

Are helpful to find birds high in a tree.

But the mystery builds

As the “non-birders” observe my tricks:

the techniques I use

such as hoots, whistles and clicks.

They struggle mightily

To find a question, framed politely,

To ask why any person would

Gesture to bushes, in a way so unlikely.

“It attracts the birds

Who are as curious as you” I declare

“Oh, I see” they respond

With that “you are an idiot” sort of stare.

Emphatically I begin to “pish”,

And warble  Screech-owl calls.

Now their mild concern is replaced

With visions of asylum walls.

I tell them I am “pishing”:

And I can see confusion in their face

They ask what does fishing have to do

With what you’re doing in this place

“NO. I said I am “PISHING:

a sound that greatly excites the birds.”

Then they leave confused,

Troubled by my actions and my words.

I know that this I do

Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense

To those that struggle

To understand a passion so intense!

Then I turn to the hedge and pish.

And one-by-one they begin to appear

Kinglets, Chickadees, Wrens and Warblers:

Precious friends I love and revere.

Pishing is a peculiar gift

That brings the birds close at hand

An interaction like no other.

Perhaps a relationship that is hard to understand.

Pishing in the woods is an ancient and natural process

That when employed with experience can bring

Birds and avid birders together

Around this simple and effective thing.