Bird watching Without a Clue – Bob at Colonel Samuel Smith Park

 

Bird watching Without a Clue – Bob at Colonel Samuel Smith Park

It was a warm spring day when I, Bob the photographer, wandered into Colonel Samuel Smith Park with my camera in hand and not a single clue about birds in my head.

The park, tucked along the lake shore in Etobicoke, was buzzing with new life. The grass was bright, dotted with yellow dandelions, and the air was alive with the sound of chirping. Perfect day for a photo walk. I wasn’t out looking for anything in particular—just scenes, colors, and characters that catch the eye.

And catch the eye they did. First, a familiar figure—a robin—hopped across a patch of grass, chest puffed out like it ran the place. I crouched low, camera ready, as it paused among the dandelions, looking very much like it wanted to pose. Click.

Further along, I stumbled upon a couple of birds perched neatly around a weathered nest box. They shimmered with blue, white, and black feathers—sleek little things. They looked like they knew they had good feathers. I took my time, getting closer, grabbing a few angles before they zipped off and circled back.

Just as I was reviewing the shots, a pair of birders approached me. You could tell instantly—they had big cameras, bigger lenses, binoculars swinging from their necks, and a bird book in hand like it was a holy text.

"Seen anything interesting?" one of them asked, flipping open a page to what looked like the exact blue bird I just shot.

I straightened up and smiled. "I'm Bob the photographer. I just go around Toronto taking photos. I do not know any birds."

They laughed. “Well, looks like you found a robin and a pair of tree swallows,” one of them said, peeking at my LCD screen. “Good eye!”

Apparently, those shiny blue birds were tree swallows, and the robin? Well, even I knew that one. Kind of.

We chatted for a bit—me, with my photos, and them, with their knowledge. They offered some names, showed me how to ID birds by silhouette and color patches, and even recommended an app to keep track. But I stuck to my truth: I’m here for the photos, not the names.

Still, walking back through the park, I started to notice things differently. The way the swallows soared like tiny jets, the bold way the robin strutted—it was more than just scenery. They were little characters in a city park play. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn a few names along the way. Or not. I’m still Bob the photographer.