Bird Watching – How It all started

12. Mar 2026 — Reading Time: 3 minutes

by Eduard Fink

Vögel fliegen bei Sonnenuntergang über das ruhige Meer

I got into birdwatching during the Covid lockdowns, first just casually, then with a pair of binoculars, and eventually with bird guides stuffed in my backpack.

My new hobby didn’t start because of some huge interest, more because there weren’t many alternatives. I spent a lot of time outside, walked the same paths over and over again, got bored, and at some point I started watching birds. Maybe my last name had something to do with it too.

What started as an inner-city pastime developed slowly at first and really took off with my first Steiner binoculars. Then came the first books, camouflage clothing, a tent, a camera with a telephoto lens, and before long, I was already planning my holidays around bird migration.

That’s usually how things start for me.

In 2024, I first spent a few days in the Lüneburg Heath, and in 2025 on Rügen. Without much of a plan, but with a quiet suspicion that I could really indulge myself here.

I was completely in my element.

In the Heath, it’s mainly about the sky. Open landscapes, endless space. In late summer and autumn, large flocks pass through here: cranes, geese, sometimes even storks. Formations that constantly shift and rearrange themselves. I often just stood there with binoculars in hand, watching them reorganise, turn, and move on. Time doesn’t matter when you’re doing that.

Schwimmende Ente auf einem Teich in der Lüneburger Heide — The Oldendorf Gravel Pits in the Heath.

On Rügen, it’s different. The movement comes in the evening. The lagoons lie completely still, the light gets softer, and then the cranes arrive. First a few, then more and more. They land in the shallow water, call to each other, stand close together.

It’s loud and completely silent at the same time.

I stood there for hours. Over several days. Watching, taking photos, writing notes. At some point, you start recognising certain movements, understanding routines, waiting for specific moments.

What both places have in common is their location. They sit right along major migration routes. In spring, the birds travel north; in autumn, they head back south. Things become especially intense between September and November: cranes, wild geese, storks, along with many other species stopping here to rest or spend the night. But spring, roughly from March to May, is also full of movement all the time.

You don’t need much for it: a good pair of binoculars helps. The rest is patience. Standing still, watching, then watching again. Eventually, you start seeing more.

After a few days, you notice something changing. You automatically look up at the sky. You listen differently. You start recognising things that previously would’ve just flown past unnoticed.

And at some point, you’re no longer just going for a walk.

Wildwood Camping Uckermark is still on my list.

Maybe this autumn.

Harz · Lueneburg Heath