Breadcrumbs, Birds, & Poetry: Discovering A Wild & Precious Life

Before parrots, I was obsessed with aquatic birds. I can still see five-year-old me at Hillsboro Brookwood Library, clutching slices of whole wheat bread, heading to a lake full of ducks and geese. The ducks waited patiently; the geese? Not so much— one snatched a slice straight from my hand. Rude, but unforgettable. 

Over time, library trips shifted from breadcrumbs to books, but my fascination with birds stayed. How did geese know where to go when seasons changed? No GPS, no plan— just instinct and the sky. That curiosity deepened during a casual tennis match with my brother, when we paused to watch a murmuration of starlings. Thousands of birds moved as one, twisting into shape I dubbed a “bird tornado.” We stood, frozen, mesmerized, completely forgetting the score.

That moment sent me spiraling down to questions: How do instincts and evolution shape such precision? I dove into research, eventually writing a literature review of migration-driven adaptations in birds and exploring Arctic Tern migration for my Math IA. What started with breadcrumbs and a few geese became a fascination with adaptation, instinct, and the rhythms of life. 

Around the same time, Mary Oliver’s line from Summer Day struck me: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” It made me pause and ask myself questions I hadn’t before. What did I truly want from life— not hypothetically, but in ways I could act today? The answer felt clear: science, nature, and animals. But also poetry. 

I had always wanted to write a book, but fear had held me back. Mary Oliver reminded me that imagining what could be was less important than noticing what is. 

I wrote a poetry collection inspired by these ideas. My main character, an oak tree, discovers what it means to live her wild and precious life, reflecting the same lessons I’ve learned watching birds, hiking, and paying attention to the natural world.

Through birds and poetry, I’ve learned to embrace curiosity, follow questions wherever they lead, and never fear the outcomes, focusing on valuing the process. Geese, starlings, oak trees— they all remind me that wonder often hides in plain sight, waiting for those willing to slow down and look closely.