Kaylee Wells

Hotels sell out months in advance.

People fly in from most U.S.

states and multiple countries.

and there's no shortage of gear to buy.

The conference center lobby is lined with booths of bird feeders and bird art and bird books and bird tours.

Then there's the optics tent filled with binoculars and scopes and camera lenses worth more than my car.

That tent is run by Whitney Lanfranco.

Birding had a major moment thanks to COVID, obviously, because it's an outdoor, socially distanced activity, and birds never stop doing their bird things.

One popular phone app, eBird, saw engagement double going into the pandemic.

Another one, Merlin, grew five-fold.

And a lot of newbies go out and buy binoculars.

So that's what bird watchers are spending money on.

But the why still eluded me.

So I went on a tour.

What's everybody staring at this time?

There was a northern perula.

Okay.

This tour consists of a few dozen people following behind a knowledgeable man in a matching yellow lanyard and ball cap, occasionally stopping when they catch a glimpse in the brush that I definitely don't have the skill to spot.

Rob Ritma, who runs one of the nature tour companies at the festival, lends me his very nice binoculars, which I learn require skill to use properly.

Okay.