BIRDS

I used to not pay any attention to birds.  None.  At all.  Then one day all that changed.  I was standing at my kitchen window and watched as a mother bird sat on my porch rail with a long worm in her mouth, then I watched as she flew it to her babies in a nest in my flower pot.  It was at that moment that I knew my not-paying-attention-to-birds would be no more.  It was if God spoke to me in that moment and said,” If that little bird can go out and find that nice meal for her children, you can be assured that I will take care of you.”  Okay so I should have been more of a Bible reader and I would have known that was in the Bible….Matthew chapter 6.  It was just one of those moments where I just “knew” that God was speaking to me.  So my love of birds and watching birds was born.

I’ve taken photos of birds….sat for long times on my porch with my camera just waiting and watching. 

I’ve learned to listen to birds and how they chirp.  Happy sounds.  Warning sounds. Communicating sounds.

I have been delighted time and time again by watching birds build nests….yes, even in my porch plants.

Our yard now has a bird bath—thanks to my birthday last year and the wonderful idea of a bird bath for my birthday gift from my family.

I’ve decided one can never have too many bird feeders. 

Last year I was in my favorite potter’s shop buying a wedding gift when I noticed an unusual piece of pottery.   After questioning what it was used for, I was told it was a wren house.  He showed me his that was hung on his porch and told me a bit about the wrens.  Uh huh.  You guessed it.   I had to have one for me.  That day.  I brought it home, The Husband hung it on my porch so I could see from my dining room window and I watched.  I didn’t have to watch long because in a couple of days, the wrens in my neighborhood had found that wonderful house of clay.  Amazing.  No other word to describe how that little bird filled that clay house with twigs, grass, and other safe goods made by God as she prepared for her little ones. 

I continued to watch as the eggs hatched and that bird brought food to the babies.  The wren has a distinctive sound so I would know when the food was coming because I could hear the sound of the adult bird.   I researched the time frame so maybe I could see them fly.   I did not get to see the babies leave the nest but was able to see them on my porch swing and then watch as they jumped to their new life into my hydrangea bush.  Amazing. 

Not too long ago, the wrens again inhabited the clay house, using the twigs and such already there.  I again determined when the birds would hatch and how long they would stay there.   This time I could actually sit on my porch chair and watch the mother bird bring in the food and hear the little ones making their little bird sounds. She didn’t care that I watched.   Amazing.  I kept a close watch from my dining room window until one night after supper, I realized those little birds had gotten closer to the clay house door.  I watched for about 45 minutes as the mother bird kept bringing in the food time after time, diligently, to the little ones and I watched as their mouths would open and she would feed.  I feared they were getting too close to the door and my mind would scream, “Get back, you’re going to fall out!”  Even once or twice the mother bird would push them back as she fed.  I finally decided they were back in safety and walked away from the window for a few minutes.  As I came back into the kitchen I walked to the window and….oh no!   There was one little bird hanging on to the perch and another on the perch and one looking out of the opening.   Again I stood at the window with my mind screaming, “Oh no!  Oh no!  Don’t fall!  Oh no!”  (Really I’m not exaggerating….it was traumatic.)  Then that little bird turned loose, flopped it’s wings a time or two, and landed on the porch and began hopping around the porch.  The other one on the perch did the same while the one watching stayed where he was.  The two little ones hopped on to the edge of the porch near the hydrangea and before I knew it, they had hopped right off into it and their lives began.  I continued watching that final little bird gather it’s courage and hop right off, too, following his siblings to his life.   Amazing. 

The Lord truly delighted me that day by allowing me to watch the miracle of these birds.  No, I don’t understand why the male red birds are brighter and prettier than the females.  No, I don’t understand why some birds are predators and some are not.  But I do understand that the Lord wanted to teach me about my life through these birds.   

One of my favorite songs, “The Sparrow”, is sang by a duet at my church.  Every time I hear the song, I am touched because the lyrics encourage me.  It goes like this:

Early morning sunshine, dew is on the ground.


The singing of a sparrow makes a joyful sound.


It's the song of strength and endurance, giving me assurance,


That Jesus is near, when hope cannot be found.



Sometimes I am strong, and others I am weak.


It's a struggle to become what I really need to be.


I worry about tomorrow until I hear the sparrow,


And I'm reminded of the promise He'll take care of me.



The sparrow never worries where to get supplies.


He just flies until he finds it, under God's watchful eye.


And if the Lord can know so closely, the simple pathways of a bird,


Will He not provide His children, protection from this world?



So I'll sing because I'm happy.


And I'll sing because I'm free,


For His eye is on the sparrow


And I know He watches me.

So I will keep watching, listening, and learning from the birds.  And that gives me great joy!