How I love its rich melody, pure joy!
It encourages me, cheers me on as if to say …
“The day is new and fresh, you can do whatever you set your heart to do.”
On certain days, one of their kind will single me out.
It might be the jay or the chickadee or sometimes the purple finch.
His song beckons me to reply, to stop – for more than a moment …
and respond in kind with conversation.
What do birds discuss?
Do they talk about the weather? I imagine so.
Do they tell of their plans in life, the difficulties they endure, the happy moments they remember? They must.
What is this one saying today?
Surely he must be telling me to “Cease the moment! Enjoy the day!” Revel in the glory of his song.
I visited with a dear friend just yesterday. She will begin treatment next week, holding on to as many days of life as possible. There were four of us sitting at the kitchen table as we always have, birds feeders just outside the window waiting for the supper rush. Birds were all around us. Little ceramic birds, bird cards, bird art, bird spoons. She handed a metal one to my daughter, no bigger than a quail’s egg, and a small statue of a cardinal sitting upon a rose blossom to me, to keep and cherish and remind us of her.
We talked of birds of course, which ones we liked, ones who were bullies, ones who we love so much we now recognize their song. And of gardens once tended and in whose garden the yellow roses and bleeding hearts are in now.
We didn’t cry then, but we will. And we must.
And it amazes me so … how those who are weak, whether physically or emotionally … give us such strength from their ability to endure the most difficult of days. And I will be stronger then, when I hear that spring song.