Confessions of an optics expert.

Inevitably, people tend to equate expertise in birding, astronomy and many other optical pursuits with numbers and quantity - how many birds, how long a list, how many deep-sky objects, what detail did you see, what resolution did you obtain and on and on. True, this is a necessary component to gaining expertise and is a valuable tool when communicating with others, but dig a little deeper and you may be surprised to discover that many of us "experts" no longer play the numbers game when we are observing for ourselves.

You see, if it was solely a matter of completing lists or reaching an arbitrary number, many of us experts would have put down the binocular years ago or retired the telescope permanently to the garage. Every list comes to an end and you can only get so clever about re-inventing a new one. For instance, I once kept a weekly bird list, a monthly bird list, a seasonal bird list and, of course, a yearly and lifelong bird list. I then started to create bird lists by state as I moved around the country. As for astronomy, I kept a binocular list, a small refractor list, a list for my Dobsonian, then started lists for different locations.

Okay, true confessions time. I haven't kept a list for a long time. This sometimes surprises and even shocks some people, especially those who look to me for advice on optics. Don't get me wrong; I still believe in lists and I do encourage others to use them for learning and motivational reasons - anything that gets you out and observing is a good thing. Lists, however, are but a step in the journey and a tool. The best advice I can give to anyone is to look beyond the list. It's the experience that counts, not the list.

The truth is, I, like many others I know, continue to observe because I am hooked on the beauty of what I see. The things I remember and cherish the most are qualitative, not quantitative. It was that first look at Saturn; it was that glorious clear night with the Zeiss binoculars that nearly brought me to tears. The vision of M7 on that night is forever locked in mind, though I have seen M7 many, many times since. In like manner, I will never forget that foggy spring morning when a Prairie Falcon swooped out of nowhere and made every Prairie Chicken I had been watching disappear as if by magic.

I spend the big bucks on optics, then, not to add things to my list, but to enhance the experience. I don't just want to see;I want to see something the best it can be seen. Will an inexpensive Oberwerk 11x70 binocular see nearly the same number of things as my precious Nikon 10x70 Astroluxe binocular? Actually,it won't be that far behind, especially under my light-polluted skies. Will the Oberwerk 11x70 show things as beautifully crisp, clear and bright as the Nikon 10x70 Astroluxe? No, definitely not. That's why I skipped a lot of lunches to pay for the Nikon.

My treasure trove of memories is full to overflowing, but I would not trade a single one for any list I have ever kept. I continue to observe because I have fallen so deeply in love with what I see and if you could peer into my soul, you will find endless visions of prairies, forests, mountains and marshes. If I am tempted to measure anything, it is to count the number of people I have helped in their journey to love these things as much as I do.