By someone who’s made every birding blunder so you don’t have to.
I started birding because my wife, Sarah, kept looking up while I was looking down. We’re both nature lovers and often find ourselves in wild places across southern Africa. But on our first trips to the Kruger National Park and Hluhluwe–iMfolozi Park as a couple, I grew impatient. I’d scan the bush for lions and leopards, the headline acts, but more often than not, they were no-shows.
Sarah, on the other hand, was having a ball. Birds kept her completely absorbed: little ones flitting through the shrubs, raptors circling overhead, entire flocks sweeping across the sky. She was alive with excitement, constantly pointing, listening, smiling, laughing. She and the guides spoke in an entirely different language, full of animated chatter, exclamations, and shared glances into the treetops.
That’s when I realised she was onto something. And more to the point, if I wanted to keep this bird, I’d best become a birder myself.
Before long, I was hooked. I discovered that birding’s not just for retirees. It’s a ticket to a richer, wilder world, one that’s in plain sight whether you’re in the wild or in your back garden. But how do you start birding? And why should you? Here’s a 12-step guide to becoming a birder — part how-to, part lifestyle revelation, part confession.
1. Accept that you’re already a birder
If you’ve ever paused to admire a flamingo, marvelled at a hovering kestrel, or been woken by a hadeda screaming at dawn, the spark is there. Birding doesn’t begin with gear or books, it begins with wonder (and sometimes earache!).
For example, here’s a wonderful thing about the Hadeda Ibis. That long curved beak is specially adapted to detect minute vibrations in the soil that it digs into. That’s how it locates worms and insects buried beneath the surface, especially in wet soil where vibrations are amplified. In turn, this helps to break up soil and improve air and water circulation, which benefits plant growth, and attracts more critters. It’s a pretty cool bird, the hadeda.
2. Get magic eyeballs
A pair of binoculars are the only pricey piece of kit you need. They don’t just bring birds closer — they open a parallel universe. A small speck in a treetop becomes a Black-backed Puffback with a bright red eye and a bad attitude. That spectre on the horizon becomes a Wandering Albatross gliding on outsized wings (As much as 3.7m, the largest wingspan on earth).
Start with a 10×42 pair. That’s 10x magnification with a 42mm diameter front lens (the bigger the diameter, the more light is let in). My biggest mistake was buying a cheap pair of 12×50 binoculars. I thought their size would impress people, but it just inflated my inferiority complex. And cheap means heavy – It’s like going to the gym every time you raise them – and higher magnification makes the image shakier.
Quality costs more, but it consider it an investment in joy. In my opinion, some reasonably priced but trustworthy brands are: Vortex, Bushnell, and Nikon. And, if you’re keen to step into the big league, Zeiss, Leica and Swarovski offer outstanding quality.
Spotting scopes are a different level entirely. At 20x plus magnification, they open up a distant world, but they are unwieldy, require a sturdy tripod, and the price for real quality is next level. Just hoist those binoculars and enjoy – for now.
3. Clear your book shelf
There are so many birds. Over 960 species in Southern Africa alone. 11,131 species worldwide, according to the new AviList.
A field guide is your best friend, there to help and humble you in equal measure. Many species are hard to tell apart, and a field guide – a book, or a phone app – is essential. Ideally you need both. Cross-referencing is very helpful, and the ability of apps to play bird calls helps a great deal in identifying birds.
Choose a guide on the region you explore most. Some books are as localised as a single city region, or a national park. Others are as wide ranging as a continent.
The great majority of field guides are painstakingly developed by renowned ornithologists, illustrators and photographers. You can’t go wrong with publishers: Roberts, Sasol, Chamberlain, Struik, Newmans, and Helm.
Where differences between books are most pronounced is in the illustration and photography. It’s wise to use at least two guides for cross-referencing the most difficult species. Field guides take a while to get used to, and you’ll experience some frustration in the sheer volume of birds and similarities of many. But it does amount to fun.
On a birding trip to Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park, I had just been introduced to a pair of experienced bird guides when a small, obscure raptor descended on a tree near our lodge. What ensued was a frenetic half hour, rifling through our different field guides and apps trying to determine the bird’s identity. We scanned every feather with binoculars, chatted away as we flipped between multiple pages describing Gabar Goshawk, Little Sparrowhawk and Shikra. It was only as the bird turned and flew off that we could see the key differentiating feature of its tail feathers. We finally agreed it was Shikra, and by then had become fast friends.
That leads us on to the other redeeming aspect of birding: Community.
4. Find your tribe
Birders are a strange and lovely tribe. If you join a local club or online group. You’ll learn where to go, what to look for, and best of all, you’ll see how accommodating birders can be, especially when you are a beginner. They want to help, if only to grow the community and take a step closer to world domination. You’ll make new friends — or find someone who doesn’t mind that you can’t tell a Zitting Cisticola from a Lark-like Bunting (like me).
Bird clubs and online groups encourage people of any age to get involved, and will also mentor youngsters in this wonderful pastime. And if you’re a parent, it’s a great way to get more involved with your kids. Get them (and yourselves) off the screens and inspire them with the wonder of nature.
Read our interview with an up-and-coming young birder.
Check out GoBirding for bird clubs in South Africa.
5. Start where you are: garden, balcony, car window, running trail.
You don’t need to trek into the Serengeti. Your nearest tree has a bustling community of birds going about their drama-filled lives. It’s a soap opera out there: African Harrier Hawks stealing starling chicks from nests; Pin-tailed Whydahs full of testosterone trying to impress bored females. It’s often comedic, and frequently sublime. Watching them brings you into the present.
Garden birding is a particular delight, and relatively effortless. You can attract more birds with bird baths and feeders, although it’s important to choose the right food, clean and maintain feeders and baths, and position them in a way that they do not attract bird killers like domestic cats. The ultimate way to attract birds is to plant indigenous plants, as they provide the ideal food for birds. Here is a vital guide for feeding of birds.
For the sportier folks, take a few breathers on your favourite trail or urban run to scan the trees, shrubs, water or grassland. You won’t be disappointed. Many top runners are devoted birders, multiple Comrades Marathon winner Bruce Fordyce being one example. Check out our interview with Bruce in the next edition of our print magazine.
6. Birding is good for you. Seriously.
Here’s where birding really becomes life-changing. It gets you outdoors. You walk more. You breathe deeper. Your blood pressure drops. Your mind is clear. Studies show birding boosts mental health, reduces anxiety, and enhances focus. It’s yoga with binoculars — and no Lycra.
Suddenly, you’re aware of the first Woodland Kingfisher call of summer. You track the slow arrival of migrants. You notice when the weavers start building again. Birding connects you to the rhythm of nature — a deep, ancient beat that modern life tries very hard to drown out.
8. Keep a bird list (watch it take over your life)
It starts easily enough: Hadeda Ibis. Pied Crow. Dusky Flycatcher. But soon, you’re planning weekend trips based on sightings others have shared on the Rare Bird WhatsApp Group. You’re suddenly ‘falling ill’ at work, only to arrive bright and bushy tailed at the latest avian spectacle. You’re elbowing through reeds for a glimpse of a flufftail, or sitting for hours looking expectantly at a hole in a tree. The list becomes a time capsule of memories and places.
9. Travel will never be the same again
Birding adds a secret mission to every trip. Suddenly, a dusty road in Damaraland isn’t just scenery — it’s a chance to spot a Rüppell’s Korhaan. You’ll discover places you never knew existed. You’ll hike, bike, and drive with purpose. Every destination becomes a treasure hunt.
Check out GoBirding for great birding sites, accommodation, community guides and travel operators in South Africa.
10. Birding isn’t a competition (actually it totally is)
Some people bird for peace. Others chase lifers like it’s an extreme sport. Both are valid. Whether you’re regaling a fellow birder about spotting your 600th species, or simply marvelling at the antics of a bee-eater, you’re part of something bigger — a community of people who choose to look up.
11. You’ll become a conservationist without even trying
Birding has a sneaky side effect: it turns you into someone who cares deeply about wetlands, forests, that one scraggly patch of fynbos outside Stanford, that cliff face in the Drakensberg. You start learning what birds need to thrive, and suddenly you’re signing petitions and chaining yourself to trees.
12. Sharing is caring
Few things are better than showing someone their first sunbird through binoculars. Whether it’s your partner, a friend, or a child, sharing birds spreads wonder. And soon, you’re not just a birder — you’re a joyful, slightly obsessed ambassador for the avian world. Welcome aboard.
May your life list grow long, and your binoculars never fog up at the wrong moment.
By Anton Crone, editor of African Birdlife
