Birdwatching firsts are usually good things.

A new birdwatcher sees a scarlet tanager for the first time. The first warblers show up in the spring. An evening grosbeak visits a feeder for the first time. (I’m still waiting for that one, by the way.) Witnessing a unique behavior, like an eagle harassing an osprey into dropping a fish, for the first time is always a thrill.

But not all firsts are cause for celebration. Some firsts are best avoided if at all possible. I was reminded of this last week when I woke up and found this year’s first deer tick embedded in my thigh.

I should have known better, of course. But there I was tromping through waist-high grass trying to get a better look at a swamp sparrow. It will be okay, I thought, it’s still early in the season, and it hasn’t really warmed up yet. Every year, it takes this lesson for me to realize that ticks emerge before I think they will.

I returned to the car after my unsuccessful attempt to close in on the swamp sparrow. As I sat down and got ready to turn the key, I noticed a deer tick on my pants, its tiny black-and-red body slowly crawling as it searched for a way to get to my blood.