My family is concerned, because of the blind. They don’t understand, of course.

“What? So, you just get inside the thing and sit in a chair? In the woods? Alone? That’s so weird!”

Like I said, they don’t understand. They’ve never been inside.

I intended to do important things in the blind. Really, I did. Mainly taking photos and videos of birds. But then I discovered a side benefit. I found that simply sitting in the blind—quiet, listening to the natural world around me—was pretty relaxing. Calming. Zen-like, you know?

The blind itself is pretty basic. It’s a portable and collapsible model made by a company called Huntsen. Costs around 100 bucks on Amazon. It’s really designed for hunting, but works pretty well for filming things.

In its collapsed state, my blind fits in a bag that can be worn like a backpack. Weighs around 10 pounds. When I reach a flat, open spot in the forest, or marsh, or field, I simply remove it from the bag and pull a strap on each panel of the blind to snap it into a cube-like shape. I can set it up in less than a minute. Think of a small tent with no floor and rectangular openings that let you peer outside and shoot things with a gun, bow, or camera. It’s plenty roomy enough for a folding chair and a tripod. Or even another person, although no one has wanted to join me.

But the really cool thing about my blind is the material. It’s perforated with tiny holes that let the occupant see what’s happening outside, but animals can’t see inside. I imagine it’s what Harry Potter must feel like beneath his invisibility cloak.

So far, I’ve only used the blind near my property in southeastern Massachusetts. From my back door, it’s just a short walk to some undeveloped coastal forest and wetlands that are home to dozens of familiar bird species. During spring, it can be a raucous environment, with all sorts of critters seeking mates, fighting off rivals, building nests, and so forth. Lots going on.

The first time I used the blind was a revelation. Once I climbed inside and plopped down in my lawn chair, I felt as if I had disappeared. It didn’t take long for the forest creatures to return to their busy lives around me. After only a few minutes, chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches were calling and pecking in the trees overhead. A grey squirrel approached to within two feet of the blind. A secretive ovenbird alit on a nearby branch. An hour into my first “sit”, I was startled by a deer that had managed to sneak up behind me without making a sound.

The blind has already yielded some remarkable footage and photos. But more than that, it has forced me to be a more patient and careful observer of nature. Ironically, the blind has helped me see!

I wish my family understood. And maybe some day they will.

But first, they’ll have to venture inside.