I was working on my next book, Good Birders Don’t Wear White, Yellow and Blue Stripes, when an Osprey approached. I got a few shots before he noticed me and made a hard left turn to the far side of the bog. That’s strange, I thought, Ospreys aren’t usually so skittish. After a few laps over there he made his way back toward me and again he steered clear. That’s when I looked down at the glowing, tri-colored stripes of my brand new shirt and pondered the importance of a little bit of camouflage.