Shared by Monica Hoel- Guest Blogger for Hungry Mother, as Guest Blogger.

Three crows and a duck.

That’s a joke between a friend who works at Hungry Mother State Park and me. I tell her that every time I’ve ever brought a group to the park to go birding, that’s the full extent of our species count: three crows and a duck. Of course, it’s an exaggeration; we usually see more than one duck.

But recently, I’ve been beholding some birds there that have long been on my wish list. And I’ve witnessed some very cool behaviors that I’ve never before seen. Have the animals changed? Or is it me?

One day this summer, I had thrown up my hands in frustration and quit looking for that noisy Black and White Warbler (at the top of my “must-see” list) and was headed to my car to go home when he showed up in the parking lot and posed for me. 

Another day, I had drifted my kayak into the shallow water near the spillway. I was a little stuck on the rocks, which afforded me time to see Killdeers, Spotted Sandpipers, a Great Blue Heron, Red-Winged Blackbirds, nesting Eastern Kingbirds, and juvenile Grackles demanding breakfast. 

On another visit, I literally almost bumped into a little fawn who was watching me with wary stillness from the understory.

And I was picking up trash from the water’s edge one day when I ran across a recently-emerged dragonfly who was still too new to this world to argue with me with him on my hand, allowing me a closer look.

Could it be that all these amazing creatures have been around me all this time?  Was I too busy organizing groups, talking with friends, paddling to the middle of the lake, or checking my texts (guilty) to notice all the amazement that Hungry Mother has to offer?

It’s also true that slowing down has allowed me to see much more than just another entry on a species list. Some sights are so common that we forget how wondrous it really is to see how a Chickadee lands on a limb. Or how a fawn follows her mother to the water. Or how Grackles beg noisily for food while wading in the shallow water of the lake’s spillway. In The Southern Wildlife Watcher, Rob Simbeck states a simple and profound truth: “Wildlife watchers often thrive on sightings of the rare and unusual, but experience teaches us an ever-renewed appreciation for the ordinary.”

Time after time, the awesome sight I’ve enjoyed at Hungry Mother State Park was not what I was seeking: it was a happy accident that resulted in the most amazing moment I could never have predicted. Who knew that Beyonce would have the best advice for wildlife watchers? I have only needed to “Hold up...Slow down...Back up” -- and gander at all the wonder that surrounds me all the time, if I just pay attention.