The other morning, as I was on our roof deck doing my morning journaling, I noticed a pair of birds land in one of the planter boxes where we grow vegetables. While I watched the leaves of the bok choi and Swiss chard tremble as the birds made their way among them, I wondered what they were up to. Were they finding bugs for their morning breakfast? Were they sampling the tender leaves of the cilantro and parsley?
I soon had my answer when one of them, then the other, flew off with a beak full of twigs and dried leaves. They made several trips from wherever they were building their nest, each time carrying off ample nesting material. I felt so happy that our roof deck garden was providing them with what they needed for the home they were building for their young ones, and I had such a deep appreciation for how they made use of what nature readily offers.
Birds have my deepest respect for the risks they take in learning to fly, and the truth is that not all of them make it. During fledgling season, while on my walks through the neighborhood, I sometimes see dead baby birds on the sidewalk, little birds who didn’t quite get the knack of flying, though far more often, tiny baby birds who were blown out of the nest even before they had a chance to try. That, I guess, is the nature of nature that one just has to accept. Lives end. Life goes on.
A week or so ago when I stepped out our front door to water our flowerbeds, I encountered a young bird on the porch of our neighbor’s adjoining row home who was clearly just getting the hang of flying. I gave it plenty of space as I walked over to the hose and turned it on.
A few minutes later, while I was watering, I heard an odd thumping sound coming from the front stoop of our neighbor’s house, and I went over to investigate.
The fledgling, no doubt in an attempt to launch itself back into the air, had landed instead in our neighbor’s recycling bin and couldn’t get out. So I gently laid the bin down on its side so it could walk out and make another attempt.
A wise master once advised us to consider the birds of the air, and this time of year I take the instruction to heart, because birds really are some of my best teachers. They remind me that the best way to greet the morning is with a song in my heart. The wisest way to create a home for myself in this world is to live in harmony with nature. And the only way to experience and express who I truly am is to take the harrowing leap from the comfort of the familiar and trust that something in me knows how to fly.
Like what you read?
Thank you Patricia! Such tenderness and wisdom in your voice.
🙏 Thanks, Amy. I’m not surprised this resonated for you 🙂
Beautiful thoughts and images! What a lovely way to think about birds, which we too often take for granted. Thank you!
So true, Eleanor. We do usually take them for granted, but they are so amazing!
Oh, Patricia, beautiful message, as always, thank you.
This last paragraph has really touched me.
I, too love the bird songs and learn from them as they harmoniously live the day right from the start, with the first “chirp” that I hear echo throughout the neighborhood, then the fuller “wake-up” song that then decrescendos until the, “greeting of the sun” song that wakes the world!
What a glorious choir it is!
The harmony of nature is there for, “he who has ears to hear ” and “eyes to see” the beauty we share joining as one to walk the circle of life and Loves True wisdom together.
Peace and Blessings
Deb, you have so beautifully described the songs of the morning. Even here in the heart of the city I marvel at how many birds there are, gracing our existence with their songs and their presence.
Hello Patricia,
I appreciate your post today. I also value your interview with Dr. Eben Alexander on Sunday, May 21, 2023. As I read about your encounter with the birds, I remembered my encounter with a dying bird last Friday, three days ago. The bird struggled to breathe and apparently could not move. I could feel its distress but could not figure out the best thing to do. I closed my eyes and imagined it was breathing calmly, free from the panic so apparent less than a minute before. When I opened my eyes, I saw the bird had stopped breathing. At that point, I realized it died. I had mixed feelings; I appreciated that it was no longer suffering; however, I chided myself for not praying for it to be healed and fly away. Now fast-forward to the Mindful Universe conversation Sunday. I am not sure when during the conversation, I realized that it wasn’t to decide life or death for another creature. My responsibility was to honor Life and offer comfort. Thank you for sharing how much we can learn from nature, in this case, birds.
Hi Charles. So good to hear from you, and I was so glad to see that you were able to attend yesterday’s event.
In my view you did the best thing you could have done for that bird. You accompanied it in its time of distress so it wasn’t alone. And your prayer may have been just what it needed to be at peace, let go and fly away into a different dimension. I hear you, that it isn’t ours to decide life or death for another creature. But I don’t think we can ever go wrong when we join with another in the heart of Love.
Thank you so much Patricia for sharing this wonderful experience with us. I also love to watch the birds. Have you ever seen one of them building a nest? They actually weave the bits and pieces of twigs & grass in an out with their beaks. It’s like sewing. I am in awe.
Now that you mention it, Judith, I don’t believe I ever have seen them actually building their nest. It sounds amazing though!
Thank you Patricia for these words. Answers and understanding come to us as we need them ❤️. My long time friend had a stroke on Wednesday . This reminder of nature is very poignant. Thanks
Genie, I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. Sending you and your friend much Love and Light. ❤️