A Run-In with the Super Bowl Eagle

I didn’t expect to go birding on the expo floor—but here we are.

I was in San Diego with the Axomo team for the SHRM conference. An early flight, an early arrival, breakfast eaten, and time killed waiting for rooms. I was tired, but excited—San Diego has a way of softening even the most work-heavy trips.

The trip wasn’t planned around birds. It was planned around work. But I brought my camera anyway.

Trade show conferences drain me. Where others leave energized, I usually finish with a headache and a full inbox. This one was no different.

Still, I set my alarm early. I grabbed a protein bar, stepped into the morning, and walked through the Gaslamp District toward the convention center—then straight past it.

Embarcadero Marina Park was quiet. An Anna’s Hummingbird flickered through the air. A Northern Mockingbird worked the rocks and grass with purpose, eventually pulling up a grub for breakfast. The day felt open, even if my schedule wasn’t.

I stayed longer than I should have. That decision paid off.

High in the park trees, a Cassin’s Kingbird called—similar enough to its Western and Tropical cousins that it would have been easy to second-guess. But the call held, the view confirmed it, and the moment counted.

A lifer, found on borrowed time.

I hurried back toward the conference. A Rock Dove flushed past in a tight flock. As I climbed the stairs into the convention center, a Cooper’s Hawk cut through the space and landed in perfect light—its red eye sharp and unforgiving.

Then it was back to work.

I didn’t expect any more birding that day. I was wrong.

SHRM had flown in Lincoln, a trained Bald Eagle who performs flyovers at Philadelphia Eagles games. He stood calmly on the expo floor, drawing crowds and quiet awe in equal measure.

I also met the Aflac Duck. Birding, apparently, happens indoors too.

The next morning, I took a different route through Pantoja Park.

I met a retired university professor walking his dog. He noticed the camera and asked about the birds. He told me he fed jelly to attract orioles. A female Hooded Oriole arrived soon after, dipping a bug into the jelly before carrying it off.

Later, near Seaport Village, juvenile Black-crowned Night Herons practiced fishing in shallow ponds. A group of women on their morning walk stopped to talk—sharing sadness about ducklings lost, stories about what they noticed, and the kind of easy connection birds make possible.

This trip didn’t reconcile work and life. It reminded me they don’t need to be separated in the first place.

Birding didn’t pull me away from the work—it grounded me inside it. It gave me energy where the schedule took it, and moments of connection where I expected none.

The more I allow that integration, the more support I find around me.

I left San Diego tired—but balanced.

I didn’t escape the work. I brought myself with me.

What would happen if you brought one grounding thing with you the next time life tried to crowd it out?

Full species lists and observations from this trip are available on eBird, linking the quiet margins of these mornings to the broader scientific record.