.......birds

Yogis,

Birds play a prominent role in my life. With their varied shapes, sizes, habits and voices they act as small landmarks for me as to the time of day, time of year or stage of life.

For more than half the year my morning runs are devoid of birds. It goes on for so long that I forget. Then one morning, without warning, as I head up my street for the last stretch I will hear it. The tweet of an early morning bird calling out into the silence, before the sun rises. Those mornings are when I know spring is most certainly close by! Each day thereafter, more of them speak up and earlier in the run, until finally their serenade accompanies me for the duration. 

Around that same time the robins arrive in force. I never tire of watching them hop along the grass, stopping to cock their head and listen. Such serious faces they have. Then in the blink of an eye, their beak dives into the earth to draw up breakfast. When the robins are around I know that the worms who make my garden such fertile soil have woken up. Anxious to get my hands in the dirt.

By mid-April the trees seem to vibrate with the raucous of the birds. They have so much to say! I visualize that they have all returned home from tiring journeys, and like good friends who have been apart, they can’t wait to tell everyone everything that has happened over the long cold winter. All speaking over each other as they burst with news. 

And in those conversations some natural attraction occurs as I begin to see the ducks and geese swimming in pairs. The males protective of the females. Couples who have decided they are more than just friends. Ready to step into parenthood.

Around that same time the wrens are checking out all the possible housing in the area. I watch as they fly in and out of each of my hanging bird houses several times.  Its as if they are attending open houses, checking out the digs. I have read that the male will build a few nests in different locations and then the female will decide which one best suits her. Sound familiar? I love when she selects one of mine.

When the babies arrive the parent’s lives are dramatically changed, as I remember so well. Entire summer days spent flying back and forth to the nest with food. So busy with parenthood that they quickly realize they must learn to trust me as I work in the garden below their home. Flying so close to my head I can feel the breeze from their wings. Soon little faces peering out at me through the hole.

Before I know it in the heat of the day the yellow finches are landing on the anise hyssop and the blue jays are being their usual bossy selves to garnish the seed on the ground, while mourning doves quietly perform the end of day clean up.  I feel complete when I hear the owl at sunset.

Eventually it is time for the young ones to be sent out on their own. Often the last gangly one standing on the edge of a nest afraid to take that leap. But leap they will….or a gentle push is given. The gift of letting them go. The empty nest which I have now occupied in my own life for the past year. 

In fall I watch them overhead leaving in droves, knocking berries off trees as they swarm down as if visiting a rest stop on the highway. Sorry to see them go but knowing that is my annual signal to begin to go within once again.

If only I could fly,
SARAH