Birding Through the Hard Days

by Julie Euber

Image description : A three photo collage showing Birdability board member and blog author Julie Euber at different moments in her birding and cancer journey. In the first photo, Julie stands outdoors in an open landscape under a cloudy sky. She has long dark brown hair and holds a Canon camera up near her face, ready to photograph birds. The wind lifts her hair slightly and tall grasses stretch out behind her, suggesting a birding outing in a wide natural area. In the second photo, Julie is pictured during chemotherapy. Her head is bald and she smiles broadly while holding several wildflowers in front of her face, including a bright yellow dandelion and delicate white seed heads. She wears a green and white plaid shirt, and soft green vegetation fills the background. Her expression is joyful and playful as she lifts the flowers toward the camera. In the third photo, Julie smiles warmly in a close up selfie. Her hair has grown back into a short pixie cut. She wears a navy blue shirt with small white dots and stands beside a light tan brick wall. 

 “Are you ok? This is big.”

I barely caught the words from my doctor as my phone service wavered in and out. I took a deep breath, looking out at the rugged beauty of the Arizona desert surrounding a car I wasn’t driving. My co-worker Dani and I were on our way to a snowy part of the state for a work trip when the call came in. Dani, sensing the news was not good, grasped my hand with a deep confidence and care that I will never forget. I assured the doctor I was ok, and we looked for a place to pull the car over where service would be stable so I could call my husband.

When we made it to the nearest town, we pulled into the Taco Bell for a bathroom break. I got in line at the counter, smiling at Dani.

“When you get diagnosed with breast cancer, you get to have a treat,” I said.

Weeks later, I was giving a presentation on a university campus and missed multiple calls from different doctors. It hit me that I couldn’t balance my job running SARSEF, the science education nonprofit I love, and the number of medical appointments filling my calendar. The board and staff responded with a balance of empathy and practicality, giving me the space to focus on my health and providing key staff members the support and compensation to cover for me in my absence. Throughout my time in chemotherapy, the limited hours I could spend working were a breath of fresh normalcy and joy.

Something I knew I needed to hold tighter was my connection to nature, and more specifically, birds. Birding is my moment of calm and wonder. It supports my mental health and provides a creative outlet through photography. But at the time, birding meant hiking and moving in spaces that wouldn’t be accessible as I lost energy and stamina.

Fortunately, I had been introduced to Birdability about a year before my diagnosis. Through that community, I learned birding was a flexible practice that could fit each of us, no matter what life throws our way. Before treatment began, I started preparing my backyard to attract birds to me. My friend Liz bought me a Birdfy Feeder that not only took video of visiting birds, but also helped identify them. Throughout my treatment, I would sit on my back porch and watch birds come and go. I saved some of the Birdfy videos to make me smile in difficult moments.

Video description: A short Birdfy feeder video filmed from the feeder’s built in camera shows two birds perched on a bright yellow metal perch in strong sunlight. In the foreground, a male Baltimore Oriole with a vivid orange breast and black head and back stands close to the camera, occasionally leaning forward to peck at food on the feeder. His bright orange plumage fills much of the left side of the frame.
On the right side of the perch sits a second bird with softer brown and buff coloring, likely a female or immature Baltimore Oriole. She faces the camera and shifts her stance slightly while watching the other bird. The sunlight creates a bright flare across the upper portion of the frame. During the clip, the male oriole opens his beak, pecks at the feeder surface, and turns his head toward the other bird. The second bird briefly lifts and spreads her wings before flying away, leaving the male oriole alone on the perch.

I started counting down the chemo treatments. My hair was gone, my nails were damaged, I often couldn't eat without pain and discomfort, and I was quickly winded doing things that were simple before treatment began. If it wasn’t for friends and family getting me out into nature, I’m not sure I would have ventured out of the house.

Each day during chemo, I took a Polaroid of something that made me happy. Some days I had to work harder than others to find that light side, but the practice helped me stay motivated. One particular picture shows a paved path through rows of trees. That day, my friend Lindsey invited me to go birding at Agua Caliente. We had been there earlier that year with a group, but this time, I was unsure how far I could comfortably make it from the parking lot. It turned out we were both quite content sitting at a picnic table watching the antics of a Cooper’s Hawk among other bird residents of the park. I realized I had been anxious about making people “slow down” for me, but in fact, that’s not how they viewed my company at all. Pretty soon, as my chemo regimen changed, I regained some strength, and we were able to balance stationary birding with indoor walks during the hot months.

Image description: A polaroid photo with the classic white border, larger at the bottom, shows a paved path through rows of trees at Agua Caliente park taken by the author on an outing with friend Lindsey. Sunlight brightens the scene, casting soft shadows across the pavement. In the distance, the path continues toward a low wall or structure, with more vegetation beyond. The photograph has a slightly warm, faded tone typical of instant film. 

Now that I’m on the other side of active treatment, I look back at all the different versions of me that have gone birding. An active me who was always in motion and posted a bird photo every day on Instagram for years. Me as a cancer patient, relying on birds and my fellow birder friends to let the light in on a dark day. And, last but certainly not least, the me of today. Now I still love to walk and bird in my newly grown pixie cut, but I’m less concerned about my pace. Instead of posting photos on Instagram, I choose photos to make into postcards that I send to friends, family, and kids in my life, because sharing moments of bird joy with people I care about fills my cup. As change happens in our lives, birds give us a throughline that highlights our own resiliency. I know I have so many more birds to see, and incredible people in my life to share them with.

Image description: the same triptych of photos as above, showing some of the many different versions of the author through this experience.