Hunting for puffins
Can we feel childlike wonder and awe as grown ups?
Hello you,
I very much hope you’ve had some moments of laughter and fun this week?
Can you remember when you last felt properly giddily excited about something? I mean that genuine sparkling feeling you got as a kid experiencing something for the first time.
I remember a sense of awe when my Grandad showed little me that, on a clear day, you could see the white horse on the hill from a certain vantage point in their garden. Wow.
I also remember giddy wonder going to the theatre on boxing day to the see the pantomime. When those lights went down and the music started, I think my mouth was actually hanging open in awe.
Is it possible for us to conjure that feeling as adults?
As someone who hugely values fun, joy and lightness in life, I think this is a feeling I try to seek out; though it takes more intentionality nowadays.
Play requires you to ditch the limiting, binary way we think about our feelings… In other words, we have to let go of the idea that we can’t feel both playful in the moment and anxious about the state of the world. The idea isn’t to ignore your negative feelings but to give yourself permission to feel joy alongside the negativity.
Jeff Harry quoted in the New York Times ‘How to add more play to your grown up life’
During our time off this week, T and I went on an adventure to find puffins. To my knowledge I don’t think I’ve ever seen a puffin in real life. But their adorable eyes, pyramidal beaks and orange feet are so familiar.
We were staying in Whitby to visit family and I suggested to T that we might go an hour out of our way to RSPB Bempton Cliffs, a place I’ve somehow only just heard of.
“We might see puffins there!”
“Will we definitely see some?” he replied. Fair question. It was already a long drive ahead without these added miles.
But I could tell, even the ‘maybe’ of spotting real live puffins was tantalising for him.
Arriving at the very quiet-seeming Bempton village, I wondered whether I’d sent us on a wild puffin chase. Was this a silly waste of time?
But when we turned left down Cliff Lane and arrived at what felt like the edge of the world, the car park was chocka! I felt a wing-flitter of excitement in my belly.
I couldn’t see much yet from our vantage point but in the distance I could spot people holding their binoculars up towards the blue sky. Every so often a smudge of white would flash across.
Liam in the RSPB booth asked what birds we were hoping to see.
“Puffins!” I grinned, legs jiggling. He pointed at a couple of spots on the map where we might see them.
“They’re much smaller than you think they’ll be,” he advised us. “Just look for the orange. If you see orange, that’s their feet. That’s a puffin.”
Down the track we went, arriving at the first of several wooden viewing platforms. Woah. This jut in the chalky cliff face was covered in hundreds and hundreds of chattering birds. I couldn’t quite believe it! I lifted my binoculars up and found a tiny white and grey ball-of-fluff chick perched on its rock shelf.
Our trusty Merlin app knew instantly that they were Kittiwakes. Some sat and chatted from their craggy shelves whilst others whirly-gigged down to the frothy sea below. A true sight and cacophony to behold.
A wow moment.
With a jolt I remembered our mission. Orange. I needed to find orange.
We passed our binoculars between us, taking turns as we walked further along the cliff edge.
The gannets were also breath-taking. Graceful, almost floating on slip streams. They were SO CLOSE to us. We didn’t need binoculars to look right into their piercing blue, black lined eyes. They swooped and dove. They got comfortable on the lush green rocks next to us. Cleaning, sitting and bopping beaks.
But then…was that?? Did I? Orange?
“I think I saw one!” Wishful thinking. Whatever it was had disappeared behind a pointy rock.
“What are those?” I asked a little later. In amongst the hundreds of mid-air birds, there was a tiny black one. Its wings were flapping so quickly, I felt tired watching.
T locked the binoculars on one and followed it speeding across the sky.
“They’re the puffins! That’s it!”
“What!? No way!”
I snatched the binocs back and struggled to catch one in my view. Fast little things.
But then, a sharp intake of breath.
“I’ve got one! It’s a puffin. It’s a puffin!” I followed his flight path for a while until he disappeared out of view.
“It was definitely one!” I danced on my tippy toes.
Once we’d seen one, we found another and another. Whipping by and flapping their wings almost as fast as hummingbirds.
We were actually watching real-life puffins!
I then inwardly wished that one would fly onto the rocks so that we could really study the cuteness.
We paused at another viewing point and that’s when mother nature delivered. A little puffin friend. Perched on their little chalky platform. Puffin had a good old thorough wash. No rushing. Puffin looked out at the view. It was like Puffin knew why we were all here.
The ages on the wooden platform ranged from approx. five to eighty-five. And we were all enamoured. T and I took it in turns to watch Puffin through our binoculars.
My cheeks were stretched into the biggest smile. I even got to take some photos and a video. (Yes, they are very blurry and I’m no BBC Wild Isles crew but…the puffin! Right there!)
Trust me, that feeling of wonder and awe. We can still feel it! I certainly did this week, not that our moments of fun and inspiration need to be as ‘big’ as this.
To reference Julia Cameron and her concept of artist’s dates, I definitely feel like my creative well has been re-filled this week thanks to our day trips to see places we haven’t seen before.
Now I’m thinking about how I can foster more wonder, more fun and more awe into my day to day.
What about you. How might you do this? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments.
I like this piece by fellow Substacker Gabrielle Treanor which I rediscovered this week thanks to
and her amazing list of slow living resources.
The only criteria fun needs to meet is that it feels like fun for you. And if you don’t know what could feel like fun for you think back to what you loved to do as a kid.
Fun doesn’t have a minimum time requirement – you can get a burst of joy from a playful couple of minutes. - Gabrielle Treanor
Just as I was getting out my laptop to edit this piece, I glanced out of the window and there was a woodpecker on our bird feeder! Right by the window. A cap of vibrant red feathers and black and white patterns up and down its body. A woodpecker! I’ve never seen one of those either.
There it was again.
This week…the gift that keeps on giving.
Janelle x
Really enjoyed this Janelle, thank you. I would LOVE to see a puffin. I have seen a few posts this week about "glimmers" - the opposite of a trigger. I think it's similar to what you are writing about here. When we were in France recently, towards the end of our trip, my partner said to me "What's the one thing missing from this trip that could make it even better for you?". "An owl" I said. That night we spotted a little owl perched on a chimney - a definite moment of joy! Every time I see a kingfisher or a kestrel is definitely a glimmer too!
Oh gosh Janelle, I can feel your excitement radiating through your words!! I will say that I genuinely thought a Puffin was a type of penguin 😂 and thought “penguins? In the UK? Surely not!”😂 I’m so glad you both got to see this, and thank you for sharing that video. Being able to watch that Puffin AND hear the sounds of the other birds — such joy❤️ Funnily enough, the post I plan to share tomorrow/this week could easily be a response post to this as it’s definitely full of giddiness & childlike joy! Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this, thank you!