When I hit the ground, I knew my life would never be the same: How birding (and Birdability) became key to my healing
Content warning: graphic description of an ankle injury in first paragraph.
Seven months ago, a hiking accident changed my life. Falling 20 feet through the air after missing the edge of a cliff lasted both a fraction of a second and an eternity, and when I hit the ground, I knew that my life would never be the same. I looked at my left foot, and I wasn’t sure it was attached to me. My left ankle was destroyed. Raw muscle and bone poked from the sleeve of skin where my ankle was supposed to meet my foot. A compound fracture on the left, three nondisplaced fractures on the right, complete destruction of the ligaments on the left, and bilateral ankle sprains. In a split second, my independence and the feeling of youthful immortality was gone. Emergency surgery put me back together, but it would be months before I would even think about trying to take a step.
A recent portrait, with my grandfather’s walking cane.
Learning to walk again has been the most difficult task I’ve ever undertaken. Nerve damage still flares up, like an electric fence being switched on, reminding me of the damage done. Arthritis has set in where the cartilage has worn away in my ankle. Swelling is only kept at bay if my compression sock stays in place. My grandfather’s cane is my constant companion. I used to be a long-distance runner, putting in 50 miles of running per week, just because I could. Now, I’m thrilled to say that I can walk a mile or stand for an hour. Most days when I look in the mirror, I see a stranger, and my body is a foreign place.
Birding has a huge part of my recovery. I’ve been a birder and nature photographer for the past six years, but the activity of birding has never been as important to me as it has been over the past seven months. While I was non-weight-bearing and confined to a recliner, birding out of my window became a daily joy. I learned how to master my crutches on my local birding trails, building up my strength and stamina. When I started walking again, birding helped me get outside and stretch my atrophied (weakened) muscles. But without the conversation around Birdability, birding may have continued to be a background hobby rather than a key component of my healing.
Common Loon, at Coulee City, Washington. Photo: Sara Newman.
Birdability came into my awareness around the same time I was starting to venture out on crutches, and it has been invaluable. I was once asked what brings me joy, and without hesitation, I said, “Birds.” But really, it is more than that. It is the pursuit of new things in the company of others who share that passion. Birdability has helped give me that. I was immediately connected to a community who understood my experience as someone with a new (dis)ability.
Barn Owl, Sonohomish County, Washington. Photo: Sara Newman.
Before my accident, if you would have asked me, “Are there enough benches along public trails?” or “Are there enough ADA accessible parking spaces?”, or “Are the restroom facilities at public parks or trail heads sufficient?”, I probably would have said yes. How naïve I was.
I was so unaware of the lack of accessibility at the places I had frequented for years. I have never been so acutely aware of the missing pieces preventing people from connecting with nature. People that now include me. Birdability provided me with resources and ideas about how to adapt birding to my new reality. The Birdability Map was a gift I didn’t know I needed. I’d never had to search for trail particulars before heading out, and it has made finding trails that suit my needs easy rather than a chore or barrier.
“By continuing to make space for birders of all abilities, all birders – no matter how we grow or change – will be able to continue to turn to birding as a healing and community-building activity throughout our lives.”
Birdability’s work is important and continues to be invaluable to all birders. Unique abilities should not impede our ability to seek the charismatic feathered creatures we love so much. By continuing to make space for birders of all abilities, all birders – no matter how we grow or change – will be able to continue to turn to birding as a healing and community-building activity throughout our lives.
I could bird whenever, wherever, however, and as long as I wanted before. Now, my birding is restricted to where my body can handle: flat, wide, hard packed trails. These places are few and far between, but through the efforts of organizations like Birdability, I believe more locations will change to become birder- friendly in the coming years.
