There is a phenomenon in the birding world that has bothered
Kate and me ever since we started out a couple of years ago. We
both resolved that we would try to avoid this character flaw as
we improved and found ourselves in similar situations.  The
action is called "bubble bursting."

You know the scenario.  The less experienced birder gets excited
about a bird that he observes and shares it with others.
Sometimes he has the misfortune to run into a bubble burster.
This is the person who, for a variety of reasons, throws cold
water on the wonder of the novice birder.  This is done either
through arrogance, competitiveness, or just plain dumb
insensitivity.  One of the most remarkable (and extreme) 
examples of this happened to me was in the summer of 1993 in
Chicago.  

A Reddish Egret had been reported at Lake Calumet.  It was a
remarkable record for Illinois.  I went to see it and happened to
link up with some good birders that I knew.  We found the bird,
but got only marginal looks because of the distance.  But we had
scopes and were able to make out the bird and see its dancing.  I
had to leave a little earlier than the rest of the group and, as
I walked out of the brush onto the road, I saw a woman taking a
picture of her husband by a sign which pointed the way to the
egret.  Obviously, a trophy picture.  

He asked me "Did you see the egret?"  I answered that I had.  He
immediately demanded how that was possible since they had only
just seen it at the other end of the lake and there was no way
that I could have seen it from where I had just come from.  He
actually was visibly upset that I had seen it.  In fact, his wife
was forced to comment "Dear, maybe the bird moved...it can fly,
you know".  He blustered for a moment and I was simply stunned
into silence.  I didn't know that I was in a competition and what
possible interest could this "gentleman" have in whether I saw
the bird or not?

Luckily, the group that I was with came out of the brush about
this time.  He immediately challenged them too!  And they, of
course, echoed my response.  He was dumbfounded.  He immediately
left his wife standing by the car and stormed into the brush to
see for himself.  

Fortunately, I had been with birders who could back me up.  If I
had been by myself, this bubble burster would have probably
ruined the sighting for me as well as the whole day.  As it was,
I drove away laughing at him.

Admittedly, this is an extreme example, but it has served to
teach me the importance of NOT being a bubble-burster.  Kate and
I had the opportunity to test our education just recently.

We spend a weekend in Door County, Wisconsin every summer.  The
objective is to relax, soak up the atmosphere and, ok, maybe do a
little birding while we're at it.  

One evening, after a strenuous and hard fought day of birding, we
stopped at a restaurant in Bailey's Harbor where, to our
surprise, we found good food AND good service (the two don't come
together very often in Door County).  Our waiter, Jeff, was
energetic, friendly and quick.  He was very anxious to interact
with his guests and asked the usual questions about how we were
enjoying our stay, how we liked the weather and so forth.  We sat
near several open windows and looked out on the harbor and the
lawns and gardens surrounding the restaurant.

As Jeff was waiting on another couple, he said excitedly, "Oh,
isn't that neat, listen...that's a warbler...I don't know which
one it is but he sure sings a lot, isn't that beautiful!"

Kate and I looked at each other and silently mouthed "Song
Sparrow".  Soon, Jeff appeared at our table and commented on the
same warbler as it began singing again, and singing and singing
and singing.  "Isn't that warbler neat.  I got to see it once and
tried to look him up in a bird book but couldn't find it. 
Warblers look a lot alike and are real hard to identify."

Kate and I reached in our mouths and held our tongues with both
hands.  We just couldn't ruin this for Jeff.  It would crush him
to find out that what he was really hearing was a Song Sparrow. 
To the non-birder, sparrows aren't very neat.  Warblers are VERY
neat.  And a Song Sparrow, beautiful though its song is, is not
exactly a bird worthy of handstands and cartwheels.  But this
waiter truly found his "warbler" wonderful and tried to share
that wonder with his guests.  We could have demonstrated our vast
knowledge of the avian world and corrected him.  But what would
it have accomplished?

We would have ruined this guy's excitement, and he probably would
never bring up this beautiful song to his guests in the future. 
The moral is "Encourage the wonder, don't sweat the details."

Jim Frazier
7/29/94