Not long ago an asynchronous Twitter-mediated conversation arose between my friends Stephen, Sharon, and myself in which we were debating the relative levels of nerdery inherent in some of the different activities in which we and many of our other friends participate. From developing a professional expertise in the various gull species of the world to fostering an amateur interest in moss, it was more-or-less well agreed, by Stephen and I at least, that we were incorrigible, inveterate, and wholly unrepentant nerds.

Back when most of us were in school, being thought a nerd was something to be feared and avoided at all costs (something the true nerd generally did in ways that only further confirmed their nerdishness). However as some of us grew older and the fleeting importance of perceived social status fell away, some of us for whom the term was once derisive came to embrace it. We found peace and solace in our long-beloved interests. If we were lucky, our respective occupations reflected these interests and our lives moved forward more-or-less in balance. If this coming-to-terms came too late in our lives, then we made due with continuing to follow our respective passions in our spare time as hobbies, interweaving them into our larger lives in as many ways as possible.

When I first took up bird watching, it was as part of a professional assignment by my now former employer. The only non-hunter in the marketing department of a hunting product producing company, I was assigned to investigate the world of the bird watchers to learn about the types of products they used and how they used them in order that my employer might make and sell products into this “new market” as well as their existing one. The results of my investigation were extraordinary, taking twenty-seven pages to report. In the history of the company, no such market investigation had previously been so thorough, so detailed, and so comprehensively depictive of a potential consumer market. The reason I was able to achieve this was because from the first time I met with a group a bird watchers as part of my research, I realized that I had found something long since lost in my own soul. Like a lost member of a tribe who had nearly been assimilated by a people of vastly different customs and values, I had miraculously been returned to my own people.

Now, I’m not meaning bird watchers specifically in this metaphor, rather nature study enthusiasts in all their myriad forms. As a child I loved the study of not only birds, but fish, plants, rocks, and a host of other elements of the natural world. Sadly, adolescence, small-minded friends, and the desire for social acceptance got in the way and these passions of my early years were locked in a box not to be once again opened until I reached my early thirties. Among the bird watchers I was not only at ease, I was continually discovering that other people shared my interests in many things in which I erroneously thought no other person could possibly hold an other-than-professional interest. From moths to ferns to forms of life and natural phenomena I had not until that point in time even known, someone I met had devoted years, even decades of their life to studying – extracting from their subject of study not only knowledge but immense personal satisfaction all the while.

Thus, as I sit here at my desk, surrounded by the paraphernalia of my “revived life” – stack of books, magnifiers, a camera, small flashlights, a Swiss Army knife, leaves, sample containers – l lament the years I spent chasing insubstantial illusions; however I also reflect upon the importance of devoting all that much more effort into these revived passions, making up for lost time if such a thing is possible. I think we don’t spend enough time thinking and talking about these matters – the things that, despite how we think the world around us may perceive our participation in them, truly make us happy, and give additional meaning and dimensions to our lives. We let the world be too much with us and as a result end up being defined by it, often in ways we don’t think appropriate or accurate. Quite often our strongest interests held as children are the things we still hold dear and deep in our hearts as adults. Taking them out, blowing the dust off them, and seeing if they still cast the same magical spell upon us today is something I highly recommend to all.