Free as a bird: In retirement, columnist plans to travel in hopes of new sightings

Hardly a day goes by when I don’t think about “The Big Year,” a 2011 movie that I’ve mentioned here before. TBY is to birders what “Caddyshack” is to golfers.

Today I’m thinking of the scene at the end, where recently retired Stu, played by Steve Martin, is asked to return to the corporate suite and be CEO of 3M, which is acquiring his old company. His former colleagues beg him to come back, teasing him about staying retired and “facing the abyss.” Stu rejects the offer and says he wants to face it.

I’m channeling Stu these days, having just retired myself. I wasn’t an executive, and nobody is begging me to come back and write more press releases. But the abyss thing feels real. I’m going in!

In the movie, Stu’s first retirement project is to fulfill a lifelong dream by “doing a Big Year.” He becomes a birding machine, traveling around North America for 365 days to find as many species as possible.

I have no Big Year ambitions, but I know that more birding is in my future, a good feeling indeed. I’m ready for more trips, and I plan to see new birds. Some of them are locally possible species that I’ve missed over the years; most will require long distance travel. My birding bucket list is long and growing.

First up is Texas, where I’ve spent very little time. In November, I’m heading to the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival in Harlingen. It’s one of the big annual gatherings, going on 31 years, and in my case is guaranteed to produce lifers. Visions of Altamira Oriole, Green Jay, and Plain Chachalaca have been swirling around in my head ever since I registered and booked my flight. Only a late-season hurricane could stop me now.

I’ll need additional trips to Texas, of course. Big Bend National Park is high on my list, and so is the Hill Country around Austin for Black-capped Vireo and Golden-cheeked Warbler. I’d like to witness those Mexican Free-tailed Bats in downtown Austin, too, and the building that looks like an owl.

I crave a winter return to Sax-Zim Bog in Minnesota, where Northern Hawk Owl, American Three-toed Woodpecker and Sharp-tailed Grouse eluded me the first time in 2016. Another encounter with Great Gray Owl would be nice, and a first-time look at a snow-white Ermine.

More exotic destinations are also in my plans. Costa Rica, naturally, where Resplendent Quetzal is my all-time dream bird. Hopefully South America, and Hawaii for sure. My wife is not a birder, but she’s game for travel, so that’s a good thing.

National parks? Absolutely. I’ve been to a third of the 63, but still long to visit Yellowstone, Yosemite, Zion, and a bunch of others — great scenery and hiking await, with interesting birds as a bonus.

Birding locally will be much different now. On most days I’ll have the flexibility to jump in the car and “chase” a reported rarity. Weekday birds are now in play. I hope to finally spot a King Rail and Purple Sandpiper. Both are challenging targets but seen annually in northern Illinois.

Churchill Woods and Lambert Lake may become my local patches — I could bike to them — and I’ll be watching the backyard more than ever. In May I can have second cups on the patio instead of rushing off to work when spring migration is peaking. Maybe I’ll beat my one-day yard record of 47 species.

Down in Florida, I have unfinished business with Mangrove Cuckoo, my longtime nemesis bird. How I’d love to check that one off. Maybe a week at Sanibel Island would do it.

Wild Wonderful West Virginia also is calling my name for a chance at Swainson’s Warbler. I heard about a place.

My former work colleagues seem to think I’ll be birding every day. The “Gone Birding” sign taped to my computer screen probably left that impression. But no way. Only local legend Al Stokie, once profiled here, could do that. I have golf to play, miles to run, and columns to write. Volunteering and sharing the hobby are in the mix, too.

It’ll take me a while to settle in, that’s what my retired friends say. I feel blessed to have good health and multiple interests, and now the time to pursue them. At last, I’m a free bird.

• Jeff Reiter’s column appears regularly in Neighbor. You can reach him via his blog, Words on Birds.