I get up at seven, yeah
And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin
Yes, Im workin all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess thats why they call me
They call me the workin man

They call me the workin man
I guess thats what I am

The prophetic words of Rush’s “Working Man” have never felt more true as of late. As I get up in the pre-dawn hours and get ready for work, I can’t help but think about the birds around me waiting to do the same. Surely it is work surviving in their world. I also can’t help but think that in two months I will be marking the 2nd and 3rd anniversary of my big cross country trips out west to CA (already?!?!). Those trips marked my first experiences into a new world, a world I had only thought about and read about. A world that seems a little distant at the time.

Reading magazines like Birder’s World it is hard not to imagine some of the crazy places I’ve been birding over the years on my adventures, especially with columns like “Best Birding Spots”. But I guess that is the daily grind, life isn’t always a birding adventure. Surely I miss the early hours of getting up and traveling for hours on end to far flung corners, or exploring unseen territory for unknown species, but settling down is nice too, and I have a lot of good reasons to as well. The one good thing about all this work, it will only make the next trips all that much better, especially when I share it with the ones I love.