A farmer's birdin'

Feeling bird-brained with Mister Graybird on my ... head?

Is it boring, or is it cool? Birdwatching, I mean. Or just “birding” to those in the cool camp. It’s a hipster trend, championed by both writer Jonathan Franzen and Dakota Johnson’s lovable wreck in “Daddio.” A poll of women ranked it as an ideal hobby for a partner, not far below cooking, playing a guitar and hiking. But a social psychology journal’s findings disagreed, with its study finding it nearly as dull a pastime as watching television or smoking.

Me, I was just trying to grow food on our empty field.

And then there was a loud screech in the sky, and I looked up with wonder to see a hawk, not just flying but in flight from two measly little mockingbirds who were darting to and fro, fearlessly chasing it away, effectively shooting a middle talon at the big boy. It was a Cooper’s hawk, I would learn. There are two of them who frequent the fly zone above our little urban farm.

In truth, this wasn’t my first avian rodeo. My wife, Jenn, has been birding for years, and often I’m standing alongside her, trying to shoot pictures of the rare Flying Wallenda or whatnot that someone’s spotted at Oxbow’s north application field. But it was an eye-opening event for what I might see and hear while just at work in the field every …

That’s the first bit of Brad’s latest column, “Sow It Grows,” for Columbus and the Valley magazine. Read the full piece, for free.