Welcome to Jeremy’s Backyard Birds
My name is Jeremy, and I am a 68-year-old retiree living in Duluth, Minnesota, not too far from the wide, cold water of Lake Superior. For most of my life, I moved through my days the same way a lot of folks my age did when we were younger: alarm clocks going off before the sun, long commutes in every kind of weather, busy offices, family schedules, and a long list of little chores that always seemed to get pushed to “someday.” During those years, I walked past trees without really looking at them and heard bird songs without stopping to listen. I knew they were there, of course, but they blended into the background of a noisy, rushed life.
Things changed when I finally stepped away from full-time work. Retirement did not hit me like a big dramatic moment; it arrived more quietly. The calendar opened up, the mornings slowed down, and I found myself standing at the kitchen window a little longer each day, coffee in hand, looking over a small backyard that I had mostly ignored for decades. One chilly Duluth morning, with a trace of frost on the deck boards and a light wind rolling in off the lake, I noticed a bright red cardinal perched in a bare tree at the back of the yard. The sky was pale, the branches were dark, and that spot of red looked almost like a tiny flame hanging in the cold air.
The cardinal only stayed for a short while, yet that moment stayed with me the rest of the day. It felt like a tap on the shoulder, a quiet reminder that there was a whole world of life just outside my door that I had not taken the time to see. Over the next few weeks, I started glancing out the window more often, half hoping to catch that same bird again. Sometimes I did, sometimes I did not, but as I watched, I began to notice other shapes and colors too. There were small birds bouncing along the fence line, larger ones gliding over the yard, and quick flashes of movement that disappeared almost as soon as I noticed them.
Without planning it, I had started to watch birds.
Jeremy’s Backyard Birds grew slowly out of those morning moments. I never set out to run a fancy nature site or to present myself as an expert birder. That is not who I am. I am a retired man with a modest backyard, a couple of feeders, and a growing appreciation for the birds that share my neighborhood. This site is simply a place where I collect the stories, small lessons, and gentle discoveries that have come from paying attention to the world just beyond my porch.
If you have ever felt like traditional birding guides move too fast or expect too much, this space is meant for you. I write especially with older adults, retirees, and beginners in mind. You might have a small yard, a patio, or even just a window with a decent view. You might have some aches and pains that make long hikes or heavy gear less appealing than they used to be. You might feel curious about birds but unsure where to begin. My hope is that this site shows you that you do not need perfect health, perfect eyesight, or perfect knowledge to enjoy birdwatching. You just need a bit of patience and a willingness to sit still and look.
To make things easier to explore, I’ve organized the site around the way birdwatching has unfolded in my own life.
In the Backyard Birdwatching Basics section, I share the kind of simple guidance I wish I had when I first started noticing birds in my yard. I talk about how I learned to slow down, choose a comfortable spot to sit, and let the yard become familiar instead of just something I looked past. I describe my early mistakes, like trying to watch for too long without a break or expecting to recognize every bird right away. These pages are for anyone who feels a little lost at the starting line and wants a friendly, down-to-earth voice saying, “It’s okay to go slowly. You’re not behind.”
Feeding birds became a big part of my routine as well, especially through our long northern winters. In the Backyard Bird Feeding & Setups section, I write about the feeders, seed mixes, and simple arrangements that have worked for me here in Duluth. I talk honestly about what went wrong too: feeders that were hard to clean, setups that spilled seed all over the ground, and positions that made it tough on my back and shoulders. As I got older, I learned the hard way that heavy bags of seed and awkward ladders are not my friends. So this part of the site focuses on gentle, realistic setups that make it possible to enjoy a busy feeder without putting too much strain on an aging body.
Another part of the site, Birds You Might See Around Home, came from the way certain birds started to feel like neighbors. Some of them stay all year, braving the snow and wind. Others pass through for only a short season and then move on. Over time, I began to recognize a handful of regular visitors: the cardinals that light up the yard on gray days, the chickadees that seem brave enough to come closer than most, the jays that announce themselves with plenty of noise, and the finches that decorate the branches with soft color. In this section, I try to introduce these birds the way someone next door might, pointing out small details and habits that make each one easier to recognize in everyday life.
Eventually, I had to face the question of gear. I realized that some items made birdwatching easier and more enjoyable, while others made me feel clumsy or tired. That is why I created the Simple Gear for Easy Birdwatching section. There, I share what I have learned about lighter binoculars, simple feeder designs, and other tools that fit well with the needs of seniors and beginners. I do not chase the newest or most expensive options. I care more about what feels comfortable in my hands, what I can lift and clean without dreading the chore, and what helps me stay outside just a little longer without feeling worn out.
You might wonder why I bother writing all this down. The answer is that birdwatching has helped me find a steadier, quieter rhythm in this stage of life. When work ends and routines shift, it is easy to feel a little unmoored. Days can blend together, and the silence can feel heavier than we expect. Paying attention to birds has given my days a gentle structure. I look forward to seeing who shows up at the feeder, who returns with the spring thaw, and who sticks around when the snow flies. These small patterns remind me that life continues in cycles, and that there is value in simply being present enough to notice them.
Jeremy’s Backyard Birds is for anyone who feels that same pull toward slower, more mindful days. It is for people who want a hobby that fits inside their actual life, not one that demands expensive trips or perfect physical condition. It is for readers who appreciate plain talk over technical terms and personal stories over polished lectures. If you have ever stood at your window and thought, “I wonder what that little bird is,” or if you have ever felt a quiet sense of peace just watching a feeder on a cold afternoon, then you are exactly the kind of person I’m thinking about when I sit down to write.
In the end, this site is a gentle invitation. It invites you to pause for a few extra minutes in the morning, to open a window and listen, to step outside with a warm drink and let your eyes rest on the trees and wires and fences where birds like to land. Whether you live here in Duluth, somewhere else in Minnesota, or halfway across the country, I hope you can take something from my stories and make it your own. Maybe you will try a new feeder. Maybe you will learn the name of one bird that keeps visiting. Maybe you will simply feel less alone on a quiet day.
Whatever you find here, I hope Jeremy’s Backyard Birds helps you feel a little more connected to the life just beyond your back door, one small wingbeat at a time.