The Feathered Obsession

Warren Spinster started his day off like any other morning. He began by listening to the sounds of birds outside his apartment window. This was something that he used to sooth himself while drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. Thinking to himself that the feel of the paper led him to believe he was living in the wrong time. Warren continued and started reading his books about birds that helped to identify the different animals. When he found different birds that he wanted to photograph he would identify a plan and mark possible locations on the map. Once he had the day’s locations scouted, he would head out and set up camp. 

One afternoon after hearing about a new species that had been spotted near the ridge, Warren determined it was one that had not been seen in the area before. The bird was roughly the size of a cardinal and identified by the red head and red mohawk. After heading out to the ridge and setting up camp, Mr. Spinster singing the Woody Woodpecker theme to himself thinking that the bird he found was a Pileated Woodpecker. Realizing it was not any species of woodpecker he says to himself, “I need to identify and document this bird for everyone in the area to see.” 

As he dangled from the cliff trying to get a clear picture of this animal, he heard the ropes start to part. Upon hearing the loud crack, as the ropes snapped, he found himself falling, landing on a plateau a mere five feet below where he was hanging. Hearing the camera smash below him, cursing the red mohawked bird. Feeling moderately lucky that the plateau was able to break his fall. Sitting recounting how this obsession almost cost him his life. But also looking at the fact that there was a missed opportunity to document a little know bird for people to see. The rarity of an animal rocking an adorable little red mohawk. 

Determining that there was not a way to climb up as the ropes had been severed, he went about trying to figure out if there was a way to rescue himself. Diffing through his pockets he noticed that his cell phone was in his pack on top of the cliff. Checking his pockets to see what was available. Finding the flint and steel that was in his cargo pocket he pulled it out and laid it on the ground near his feet. Scrounging up tinder and other fuel for the fire from around the small plateau that he found himself. 

Lighting the fire not only for warmth but also hoping the green wood that was now placed on the fire would signal any hikers or rangers that may be nearby.  Checking himself for any further injuries and realizing that there is nothing but scratches and some bumps that will bruise in time. Dusting himself off to gather additional firewood, preparing to hunker down for the night. Hearing the rustling around above his head as hope filled his soul thinking that it was someone that could help him or get help for him. Instead, it was the adorable red mohawked bird. “Ah this bird is torturing me now.” Said Warren allowed. 

Sitting on this plateau watching the fire burn as the sun was setting. Making a vow to himself that if he makes it off this plateau that he would identify this bird and the take a giant leap back from this fondness for birds that almost got him killed. It was this landing that saved his life. Feeling the pull of sleep as darkness fades, he stokes the fire and sets himself up to doze off for a small time before the fire needs stoking again.

As the sun falls upon his face, he hears rustling and voices above his head. As they shuffle around trying to figure out where the equipment and pack came from. He opened his eyes and called out to them to let them know where he was lying. They called down asking if he was injured with a response of “I do not think so.” The rangers started assembling rescue rigs to assist Warren and raise him back to solid ground. As the rangers were heaving around to bring him up the side of the cliff the red mohawked bird landed on the side of the litter that help Warren. 

Once he reached the top and was laid on the ground next to his pack and what was left of his camera equipment. The rangers began their series of questions. “How did you end up down there?” “What are you doing out here alone?” “Are you going to need medical attention?” The answer to the first was simple “I was climbing over the edge to try and capture a picture of a bird with a red mohawk that I have never seen before.” Said Warren and continued, “I am out here alone because it gives me the best chance at quiet to capture the shots that I am looking for and no I do not need medical attention.”

After the hike out Warren got to his car and started the short drive home. H was now on a mission to identify this bird that tortured him during his ordeal. This now has become an obsession to research and identify this bird.  Diffing through the books it was determined that was no such bird in the Northern Hemisphere.  Expanding his search to look throughout South America. Ruling out woodpeckers and traditional Northern Cardinal. Starting to narrow down the search he noticed a picture of the one red mohawked bird that has haunted his dreams over the last several months. 

The bird was none other than a Red Crested Cardinal. Sporting his bright red head and bright red mohawk. Realizing that this bird was not rare in the southern hemisphere but had never been spotted in North America. Thinking to himself that this bird must have gotten lost or rode the wrong thermal. Feeling satisfied that he had overcome the obsession with the red mohawked bird. Realizing that this had almost killed him and then in turn drove him very close to insane he decided that he was going to watch birds with binoculars from afar and stay in safe places to observe and document.