“I’ll bet there are a hundred good hiking sticks in that patch of woods.”
“Look along the fencerows there; it looks like the red-winged blackbirds are back.”
“Boy, those blue jays are really in a dogfight with that hawk.”
“That blazing red maple sure makes a pretty picture against that white barn, doesn’t it?”
My statements like this as driver of our car got me grounded by my wife. They convinced her that my AFD is getting worse. My “Attention Fixation Disorder” really doesn’t bother me, but Marge has come to the opinion that the disorder is not good and could even be terminal—for both of us. “I have an idea,” she said, “why don’t you let me drive so you can watch nature.”
Actually, I soon found that to be a very good idea, especially in the spring when the outdoors comes back to life here in West Michigan. Did you know that the male red-winged blackbirds come north up to three weeks before 
the females? They do that in order to find, claim, and fight for the best nesting areas—ones near water and preferably occupied by dense clumps of cattails.
So in late March, the red-wing fights begin. The striking males with their bright shoulder patch of red and yellow stake out their claims with loud songs and then fight anything that approaches their claim be it other males, crows, hawks, or humans. Since being a tease was handed down to me by my father, I sometimes like to bug these territorial males by making a move across their unmarked boundary lines just to see how aggressive they might become. And let me tell you, once the females arrive, you can be sure your approach will be duly noted, protested loudly, and attended with skydives that stop about six feet short of your head.
Cold northern winters keep my disorder somewhat in remission; but come March, twinges of it begin to turn my head away from the potholes in the street and hard-packed ice still laying skid traps on the road. Which are the very things Marge believes I should be giving my attention to. But AFD is a hard taskmaster, and when it wants to attend to something, it will. So about the time the red-winged blackbirds return, my AFD returns as well.
Marge and I have learned to cope with it pretty well, I think: when wild nature comes into view through the car windows and my attention begins to fixate on its many facets, I simply allow her to drive. Because she is a good driver, we can both relax. She watches the road, and my gaze can stay fixed on the wispy cirrus clouds overhead, the deer grazing at the edge of a bean field, or a red-tailed hawk dodging crows near the horizon. Comments from the seat beside me about a Hummer behind being too close to our rear or the woman ahead who apparently does not have plans for the day are usually not enough to keep me from fixating on those parts of the natural landscape that always fill me with a sense of wonder.
See you outdoors!
Dean
February 28th, 2009 at 1:48 pm
what a groovy deal!
March 1st, 2009 at 7:45 pm
Dean: I admire your problem-solving teamwork. Your “conflict of interest” problem gave me a good laugh and reminded me of a similar problem I have, only it’s distraction from talking. When I drive and a passenger is in the car I give them a choice: “Would you prefer good driving or good conversation?” They always choose the former for some reason!
March 1st, 2009 at 7:56 pm
Your article made me think. We have a variety of red winged black that doesn’t show the red shoulder. Only a thin partial stripe of both red and yellow shows. The bright red only realy shows up when it flies.
They are here all winter and summer. And are almost a pest. as they travel in hoards of many dozens and overtake the feeding areas I have.
It is a malady I think for any of us that observe, to look around all the while. Yes a dangerous thing to do while driving. Yet I can still remember my impression of driving in Kansas. Looking for any feature was a real quest.
Here in West Virginia there are many Ghost towns. Like in the west. The difference is that vegitation has grown up and overtaken the towns. The lumber was removed long ago. But what remains and is the signature that people were there are the trees and plants that every one planted.
Apple trees,Dafodils,Lilacs, are a sign someone lived there. Then if your the adventurest type, stop and have a look around. Where people lived there were always trash piles. One can still get lucky and find antique glass containers and little oddities.
Yes I can’t imagine driving anywhere and not observing all around me….except of course on an interstate highway. They bypass everything at 70 mph.
March 2nd, 2009 at 7:35 am
Yes, I catch myself doing something of the same away from where we live. Though not bad for living in a suburbs, and probably my eye is just not trained sufficiently well, it can be breathtaking, too much so to drive at the same time. So I can understand your problem.
March 2nd, 2009 at 7:36 am
…I mean to drive elsewhere. What I have to watch to and fro to work are the potholes!
March 2nd, 2009 at 9:51 am
I don’t have your problem, Dean, as my wife can spot the “nature scenes” better than I can so I drive, she sees something, then lets me know. Then we both enjoy the sight.
She can see a red-tailed hawk, black bear or white-tailed deer where I would have missed it. She’s seen so many hawks, she must have eyes like one. But it is a real treat when she does, because we both love to greet those marvelous creatures along the roadside. Even better when we get into the unpaved back roads, or walking along a trail. Sometimes early in the morning I have spooked a deer still in its bed, and we startle each other. I love it!
Got an unexpected March snowfall yesterday here in the foothills of NC, and what beauty I awoke to this morning. Didn’t see any wildlife on my way to work (wife still at home, she would have seen something if she had been with me) but the scene was wonderful.