For the Birds


“That’s shit for the birds.” – Grandma Helen

If my grandmother was alive today, I am pretty sure that she would describe the state of our world with those exact words. Then she would make some amazing homemade pierogies, fry them in too much butter, and serve them to me like it was no big deal before insisting that I have some bread with them. Grandma Helen, like myself, was a carb lover.

Sadly, she’s not alive, so I’ve been saying it for her, and adding some additional language enhancers along the way. Then, instead of delicious butter-soaked pierogies, I’m making myself a pizza made from pita bread, which undoubtedly has my grandmother cursing me from the other side.

While things are indeed, “shit for the birds” these days, I think I just have birds on my mind from three days in a row of skulking around the cold woods of Meridian Park looking for birds—specifially a bald eagle—with a camera that looks more like a bazooka when sporting the Sigma 150/600mm lens.

Despite my giant bazooka-like lens having me look like one of Michigan’s unhinged, gun-toting right-wing militia freaks1 who likes playing army but would run from the first sign of a real armed conflict2, I am not one. I am merely trying to get some photos, relax, and enjoy the outdoors in a time in our history that is anything but relaxing and enjoyable. Of course, if I did have a bazooka, I would thoroughly enjoy using it on the aforementioned militia freaks.



Friday was another day of coming up empty in the eagle department, but I was able to capture a wide variety of other birds, especially the ever photogenic red-winged blackbirds that enjoy hopping from cattail to cattail.

After a morning of shooting photos of birds, it was home to make a very UN-Grandma Helen Approved lunch void of butter, and then cut the grass of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack’s vast (not really) estate dressed like it was late November and not mid-April. Goddamn Michigan springs!


Saturday looks like it could be pretty darn, not bad for bike ridin’. But I have to admit, the prospect of walking around the woods with my camera is much more appealing to me than fighting the wind out on a dirt road with no signs of spring.

No, I think I will drop some profanity-filled idioms, charge my camera batteries, format a memory card, and head outside to shoot some photos. Then come home and fry something carby in too much butter. Grandma Helen would be proud; my doctor will not.


  1. If you are one of Michigan’s unhinged, gun-toting right-wing militia freaks and somehow found yourself reading these words, read them knowing full well that they are written with every intention of offending you and pointing out what a bunch of assholes you are.
  2. I don’t blame them for the running, I’m pretty sure I would too and would do it way better not weighed down with an unfired automatic weapon strapped to me.

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