
MICHAEL LOMBARDO, THE MCGOLRICK BIRD CLUB

Michael Lombardo of The McGolrick Bird Club, wears the Colorant X McGolrick Bird Club sweatshirt during a Saturday birdwatch in Greenpoint, NY.
Sumac, Rhus typhina thrives in the Hudson Valley's soils and open meadows, making it a resilient and abundant dye source. It's vibrant red berries, bark and tannin-rich leaves can be used for both dyeing and tanning hides. The plant produces a range of earthy tones—from soft yellows and tans to muted grays—especially when used with iron mordants. Several bird species can be found throughout the year in Sumac bushes for nesting and shelter, due to its dense branching, open thickets, and fruit clusters that attract wildlife.
Let's start from the beginning, how did you come to create a birdwatching club in Brooklyn?
I’m an unlikely birder. No formal life sciences training. Suspicious of nature lovers. Historically bored on a hike. My people are city folk, artists, designers, addicts, skateboarders. Not that birders don’t overlap with these groups. They do. But when I found birding in 2019 and then tried to articulate my transformation to everyone I knew, everyone I knew was like: "Are you okay?" There’s this huge gap between what “normal” people think birding is and what birders feel. The very first time I decided to pay attention to birds—after being inspired by Jenny Odell’s book How to Do Nothing—it took me, like, a minute to notice a vividly beautiful bird I’d never seen before. But more than that, I went from not giving a shit about birds, even thinking birdwatching was goofy, to this visceral understanding that paying attention to them makes you feel more human—more alive. There are a lot of birdwatching groups and introductory outings out there, but they’re surprisingly cliquey, or mostly composed of avid birders. I started McGolrick Bird Club because I want everyone to have the experience I did.
What's a typical birdwatch like with you?
I start by greeting people, especially first-timers. I hand out spare binoculars as needed and introduce people to one another when it feels right. Then, I say a few introductory words—regular attendees teasingly refer to this as "the sermon"—aimed at reminding everyone that birding isn't what people think. It isn’t about ticking species off lists, it isn't asocial obsessives and cute retirees in bad outfits, and it definitely isn’t Pokémon Go. Birding is about reawakening your senses, being alive to the everyday sacred, practically inhabiting a Mary Oliver poem, and—perhaps most exhilarating to my inner skater—enacting an anti-establishment/punk rage against our dominant phone culture machine.After the intro, we loop the park for an hour and a half, senses on, noticing whichever species are around. Along the way, we pause near active flora and—usually right after we see an especially surprising or beautiful bird—just hang out. At the end of each walk, we collectively recall the names of species we noticed, then hang a bit more or go on with our weekends.
Is there a birding spot that feels like a hidden gem to you?
Birders call spots they regularly birdwatch “patches.” Historically, my favorite patches are off the beaten path, small, and devoid of other birders. But perhaps most crucially, they have some kind of magic quality—a secret garden energy that I can explore and tend and get to know. Birding such places inevitably leads to lore and heartbreak that feels personal. I dig that. In New York City, that’s surprisingly empty places, like Randall’s Island, or small urban parks like McGolrick, Cooper, or Marsha P. Johnson. These places aren’t considered major birding hotspots, so I can get my introvert on while easily encountering uncommon birds and catching a vibe.
What's your favorite part about leading birdwatches? Any moments that really stuck with you?
My favorite part is helping first-timers go slack-jawed in awe for birds that are surprisingly common, incredibly beautiful, and easy to miss—like the Northern Flicker. Northern Flickers are big, Yayoi Kusama-spotted, pink- or golden-winged woodpeckers. They’re findable almost everywhere in the U.S., yet virtually unknown by the general public.
If you could be any bird for a day, which one would it be, and what would you do?
A Hooded Oriole! That species sparked and solidified my knowing that I would birdwatch for the rest of my life. Hooded Orioles are present year-round in Baja California, but can be found in Los Angeles and San Francisco every Spring/Summer. They’re vividly beautiful, and they hang out in fan palms, where they construct elaborate woven nests. I’m a Los Angeleno by birth and I love a hot day under palm shade.
What's a common bird that people often overlook, but you think is actually amazing?
There are so many :) Most people notice House Sparrows—the small brown birds you can find everywhere in U.S. cities. But there are other sparrows, often overlooked, who are truly beautiful. My favorite is the Swamp Sparrow—it has warm grays and cinnamon browns that are almost burgundy, and its eye markings kind of give cat-eye makeup. Go to a park with a pond or lake and find a Swamp Sparrow, reader!
Can you share some tips for beginners who want to start birdwatching?
Head to your nearest park and commit to spending just 30 minutes being present. That means put your phone on airplane mode and maybe bring some binoculars if you have them. Go look for places in the park that birds like. Follow your gut. Fall back into a wide-open visual awareness that takes in as much of your surroundings as possible. Pat down the world with that soft awareness, especially trees and bushes. Let movement and anomalous shapes catch your attention. Don’t strain. At the same time, deeply listen to your surroundings. Follow birdsong or ear-catching sounds. Use your two senses in tandem to locate as many birds as possible. If you want to begin learning species names, take iPhone pictures when possible. At a later time, upload those to iNaturalist and click "What did you see?" Or use the Merlin app’s Sound ID feature to Shazam birdsong. Don’t stress and don’t try too hard. Remember that you are a human animal whose brain was designed to notice and make sense of the world. You’ve got this.
https://www.birding.website/
@mcgolrickbirdclub
photos by Louisa Belk & Colorant