My Friends the Birds

In Colorado, my bird was the red-winged blackbird, who still hold a special place in my heart. They keep a particular piece of my life that is steeped in fathoms of contemplation, personal and family struggles mixed with change, and a profound seriousness. These birds came when I needed to remember the beauty and playfulness in life, but also to keep me steady in the moment or day at hand. A glimpse of childlike spirit coupled with the ebb and flow of life's great mystery of change and sameness all at once.

They are still here, though they have not found themselves necessary in the same capacity and so have become somewhat dormant. It appears that the bald eagle has made itself known as the newest bird in my journey through this life, so I looked up any symbolism relating to them. I am of the opinion that God is always finding ways for us to hear Him, through ways we will best listen, and for me, they are the trees and birds, in much of His rugged Creation. As it I would see, the bald eagle is seen by the Native Americans as a communicator between the Creator and Created, carrying prayers to and fro. What a comfort! The first appeared on a day when I needed some small affirmation, anything really, to give ease to some things coming up that had yet to be revealed, but on the horizon just the same. When they come, the idea is that your prayers are being heard and communicated, but also that everything will be okay.

I have now seen a number of them at any given time where my heart is yearning and feeling heavy and torn, or simply distanced from the very spirituality I have come to breathe in and out, but feels lacking. Today I was telling someone of these things after church and it was a nice discussion before heading off to where I am currently: coffee all by myself! As I walked along the street passing memory after haunting memory of people and places, I approached the intersection (which I am sure can be take both literally and figuratively) where a great many birds were chattering. Amidst the clamor of all their voices, I could hear the red-winged blackbird saying hello. I could not yet see with my eyes, but trusted in my heart that they were there. I saw them as I came upon them and my heart was glad. Nothing flies like and eagle, or sings like a red-winged blackbird.

Glory to God for all things!

A Tale of Three Finches

For a long time, Katherine has been wanting to attract goldfinches to our feeders, they are her favorite. Jay’s favorite is the Robin Red-Breast, mine is the Red-Winged Blackbird, both of whom regularly avail themselves for our viewing pleasure, but the goldfinch is far more elusive.

We have friends who have a plenteous amount of goldfinches, not 5-7 miles from us. Katherine was so in awe when she saw them on our friends’ feeder, we have been trying to figure out the best way to get them to come, without spending a load on feeders, or special food. They are kinda picky and we only had one on a feeder a couple summers ago.

Ok, so enough of that rambling and onto the real story, you get the point, I think. So, yesterday morning, as we readied ourselves to go to church for the parish feast day, I looked out of the front door and what do I see? A goldfinch. She was sitting there hopping toward the feeder, with hopes of black sunflower seed, I daresay. I called Katherine over to see and told her to be quiet and slow as she came. She was so excited! We listened to the song and we watched as she hopped onto the feeder and then up into the tree after a sparrow decided to ‘share’.

We gathered our things and kept hearing the song of the goldfinch as we made our way to the car. What seemed like only one goldfinch was, in fact, three! They came out, one at a time, and they flew off. We thought that was all we would get, but were mistaken. From tree to rooftop to tree again, we were being followed. A little male goldfinch perched himself in the tree next to where we were parked and we kept being regaled with the sound of the delightful birds who came to send us off.

You can be assured that our feeders are nearly always full of birds, considering I was awakened this morning at 4 a.m. as they fed, which wasn’t the first time, but when they came, the feeders were strangely abandoned, aside from that sparrow. It wasn’t the time of day, since birds will eat whenever there is food and shove each other around. There isn’t any rhyme or reason for things to have been the way they were. I tell Katherine that they came to wish her a happy feast day, especially for her. How more wonderful that there were 3, though seeming as one bird, as a symbol of the Trinity.

If you can’t tell, I think it was pretty fantastic and I am so grateful for such a gift for Katherine. They really are a beautiful bird, whose song seems to float upon the wind while they pitter-pat in your heart a little.

Sometime, I may tell you the story of the dance of the Red-Winged Blackbird on the fence, or the baby bird on the bench.