Songpairing
***I am instituting a new feature wherein I share a soundtrack to my post. This beat sounds like bobbing birds.***
[Tell me you’re over 35 without telling me you’re over 35…]
“I saw so many amazing birds this week!”
Now that I’m a proper adult with a bird feeder in my backyard, I will sit outside in the evenings and watch what happens, live.
February through May in Atlanta is the best time to be outside. It’s mild, everything is blooming, and the mosquitoes and humidity don’t really pop off until late June.
Occasionally, my outside time brings fresh perspective and life lessons. This week— Spring break—was quite fruitful for birdpiphanies.
(so sorry for that one, folks)
Lesson #1
Monday at dusk, I saw two cardinals perched on a branch right above me, a male and female.
So pretty, I thought.
I found myself pausing to ‘take this moment in,’ but before I could, the birds were gone.
I watched them dive straight down as suddenly as their little feathers would flit, disappearing under my deck.
I was still staring blankly at the (now empty) branch a half second later when a determined hawk swooped overhead, clearly on a hunt.
I don’t know that the hawk sought to eat these birds, but it sought to interrupt their peace and/or throw its weight around.
Once I oriented myself to what had happened, it occurred to me how absolutely delightful it is to be an apex predator.
And I’m not talking about the hawk, I’m talking about myself.
I take this for granted every day; I can be outside in the open, meditating in a damn field if I want to, taking in all the moments without worrying about a swooping hawk ruining my life.
And good thing too—my reaction time is dreadful.
It feels good to be at the top, dull reflexes notwithstanding. I am grateful for the red reminder of this privilege that I received this week.
So I figured the least I could do was feed them.
Lesson #2
We can learn a lot about how to captivate from this blue heron.
Watch as it does absolutely nothing at all.
Be amazed as it merely stands there, emanating magnificence.
This blue heron does not suffer from inconsistent self-worth.
Further—I’m no bird expert so I can’t be certain about this— but it would appear that there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about this particular blue heron, as compared to others.
It is marvelous simply for existing, and that is all the assurance it needs.
This was a banner week because I actually saw two blue herons. The first on Tuesday from the window of a drab little office park where my dentist practices. The second (above) on Wednesday, at this lake many miles away.
I’m pretty sure it was a different bird. Same vibe though.
Up to nothing of consequence, radiating confidence
Our human brain compels us to sing for our suppers, but I recognized here that it is the stillness that is especially powerful.
And dazzling to observe.
This is the energy to which I aspire.
Lesson # 3
I’ve been watching a pair of pigeons all week.
Precocious and plump they hopped all over the deck and were not the least bit frightened of my feral children. I think they must live in our yard now because I have seen them every day.
However, by day two, I noticed that they were actually a good bit smaller and more muted, color-wise, than the pigeons I’ve seen in most skyscraper cities. Atlanta is not exactly a concrete jungle, our yard even less so. What were they doing here?
Something was off about these pigeons.
Obviously, my first concern was that pigeon populations were mutating and migrating due to climate change and impending environmental apocalypse.
I contemplated red-eyed zombie pigeons pecking at our children.
Then I turned to Google.
It just so happens that if you search “small greyish pigeon” you will see exactly what I observed in my backyard under the heading of “Dove."
Which is to say, there is no use catastrophizing your pigeons. They might actually just be doves.
May your sights be springing this week!
The cardinals!! So beautiful! Also, lol at the AI pigeons