I always loved a good bird. One of the first additions when we moved to the childhood farm was a chicken coop and some chicks. After that, I was hooked. I sat in the coop for hours, listened to them cluck to one another and strut around, randomly pecking the floor and kicking straw aside with greatly exaggerated leg sweeps.
My close-to-home love expanded one spring morning when a million water fowl filled the skies south of our farm close to the Mississiawa River. I was at the house by myself and could hear a sound unlike anything I’ve ever heard before, or since.
I looked out the summer kitchen door to see what appeared to be a reverse tornado, a darkness in the sky slowly swirling downward. For a moment my teen mind flashed to the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz movie I’d seen so many times as a child. Awe quickly replaced fear when I realized the sight and sounds were birds of every kind gathering in the flooded fields.
I jumped on my bike and rode as fast as possible to the wood-edge. I waded through the trees to a field which looked more like a lake. I hid behind some bushes and watched thousands of ducks and geese swimming, bobbing, quacking, clucking, honking, and chasing one another. I gazed in silent amazement…until some eagle-eyed goose caught a movement and spooked. Instantly, every bird blasted out of the water and into the sky. They rose over a tree line and dropped gracefully into the next flooded field.
From that day on I’ve been on the hunt for birds of every kind in any and every location. Watching birds feeds my soul. It’s a simple thing, really. Birds fill the sky and so few people look up!
What is it that feeds your soul? For me, it’s spotting a life-bird for the first time. You might find renewal through knitting, gardening, exercise. What renews your heart? For me, it’s seeing hundreds of Sandhill Cranes flying at dizzying heights above our back yard. You might discover peace of mind through a good book, a warm cup of tea, or a crackling fire on the hearth.
Whatever ministers to your heart, mind and soul, I hope you can find time to indulge. And if nothing else, look up from time to time and catch a glimpse of a passing bird. It will make your day.
For those of you who know me…really know me, you are keenly aware that I cherish my back yard. It is a welcome oasis at the end of a busy work day. It is a sanctuary for wildlife from birds to bunnies, from spiders to squirrels. It is a haven for family and friends. It is living space outside our home, made up of little rooms with floral centerpieces, statuettes, and the sound of trickling water. This year I even installed a croquette court to add to the allure.
The next time you are out for a walk in the woods, take a moment to look up. You might be amazed at what you find.
During our most recent hiking trip, we discovered one of the strangest things we’ve ever found: A tree had grown into itself.
Spring and early summer are seasons of new growth all around the yard. Trees that have been bare all winter find new leaves budding, and creating a silhouette of full shade, as if overnight. Tulips bloom, Irises explode with color, bushes double in size, grass requires constant mowing. New life is obvious everywhere you look. It doesn’t last long but it’s fantastic to behold while its happening.
I’m not really into beaches. I love the water and I love the birds. I enjoy the breezes and appreciate the setting. You would think it would be a place I could love. The problem is, I just can’t get over the sand. It gets into every little corner, crack and crevice. From your toes to your hair. No matter how careful you are, you always take a portion of the dunes home with you.
You’ve probably heard them before, perhaps late at night or as the sun slowly sets. They are in age-old forests and at the edges of neighborhoods. Barred Owl have a wonderful call. “
I love to fish. There is nothing better than standing on a quiet edge of the lake, early in the morning throwing out my line and hoping for a bite. But, given my most recent fishing expedition, one would assume that I’d never fished in my life. Perhaps my gear was faulty, my bate was sub-par, or my technique was lacking. Looking at my most recent catch, one would think that I required fishing 101 classes.
The Philippians 4:6 Life 