Female Red-bellied Woodpecker drives away a Blue Jay from a feeder. Photograph by John Kricher.

At the age of 14, some 65 years ago, I got interested in birds. My parents saw to it that I had a decent pair of Swift 7 x 35 binoculars, and I roamed fields and woodlands trying to find birds and learn how to identify the various species. Often the birds were elusive, but I stuck to it. Then I discovered birdfeeders. This happened thanks to my Uncle Charles, who introduced my cousin Bruce Carrick and me to an elderly Quaker woman who lived alone in a wooden cottage in the woods near my home in Abington, Pennsylvania. My uncle did not know her but knew of her. Florence C. Griscom changed my life.

An expert birder who hosted many bird-loving visitors, Mrs. Griscom, who charmingly spoke using the Quaker pronouns “thee” and “thou,” opened her door and warmly welcomed us into her home. Once inside, we found a wall of windows that looked out on an array of feeders abounding with birds. She showed us to seats and began to point out the birds, species by species, field mark by field mark. A wonderful friendship had begun that jump-started my journey into a lifetime of ecology, ornithology, and birding. Mrs. Griscom sponsored my cousin and me as teenage members of the all-adult Wyncote Bird Club. She and her late husband, Ludlow, had named their rustic home in the woods Briar Bush, and today it celebrates their legacy as a thriving nature center. School groups visit Briar Bush almost daily to sit where I sat, look out at the numerous feeders, and learn about the wonder of birds.