Lingering over a cup of coffee on the deck on a beautiful summer evening is a great way to enjoy the last few weeks of the season. Sometimes the only sound is the rustling of leaves against a gentle breeze or the natural music of the birds. I'm not a bird watcher but I do enjoy taking note of the ones that stop by our backyard.
When I was a little girl my family lived in a tiny Alberta town. We had a large backyard, a lot of great climbing trees and the coolest swing set in town so our yard became the community playground.
One day when I was about 6, my friend Jimmy and I spotted a bird's nest in one of the trees. We climbed onto a low lying branch to get a closer look and inside were three colourful robin's eggs. We stared in awe at this sight and then, of course, couldn't wait to run and tell all the other kids what we'd discovered.
Each day we would go and check out the nest and the eggs. I never saw a mother bird anywhere near it but I couldn't get enough of looking at the eggs. It was so tempting to reach out and touch the beautiful blue orbs, but we didn't. Or at least to my knowledge we didn't. But one fateful day I headed out to check on the eggs and was stunned to see the nest was on the ground. It was a sad day as various kids came by to take a look at the fallen nest with only one egg still settled inside. We searched for the other eggs but didn't find them.
The spot on the ground where the nest now lay seemed almost hallowed ground. No one knew quite what to do. It seemed wrong to leave the nest there but it was clear no one felt right about touching it either.
I can't say for sure how many days passed before we went to look at the nest again but this time one of the friends brought his visiting cousin along. The cousin came into the forest, leaned over the nest, grabbed the remaining egg and smashed it against the trunk of a tree. We were horrified.
We didn't realize at the time that the egg would never have turned into a robin, as we were hoping, but we felt that it was the visiting cousin's fault and it was very upsetting. At this point we couldn't just leave the nest on the ground so Jimmy picked it up and we all got a chance to hold it and take a closer look. I remember how tightly packed the nest seemed and it reminded me of the baskets we wove at school with paper, twine and yarn. They took so long to finish and we'd had so much help from our teacher. How was a bird able to make such a complicated item?
Birds are rather interesting creatures and there is much we could learn from them. For instance, we should all start the day with a song. Birds are hard-wired to sing in the morning in response to the light. Some of us might find it hard to do first thing--it might seem easier to groan (or croak), but a song of appreciation would truly be the best way to start the day.
And then…imagine for a moment, thinking like a bird, and finding, gathering and using only what we need each day. They don't build bigger nests than necessary, and they don't gather more food than what they require to feed their babies and themselves -- they do not waste anything. Oh, what we could learn from them.
But what I love most is the way birds build and protect their nests. They don’t look for fancy materials to create a home, but use whatever they can find so the nest will be strong, warm and safe--the most important things in a home. It is their job to protect what is inside the nest and this is our job too--no matter what stage of life we are in. Sometimes it's not easy. Outside forces, like predators to birds, threaten to disrupt, and invade our nests. Just like the young cousin came into our forest and destroyed something precious to us, elements in the world are looking for a way into our nests. We need to protect those nests and the character of all those living inside.
Whether we have little chicks cuddled in the safety of our wings, growing birds learning to test their wings, or are empty-nesters, we will all fly higher and farther knowing we can return to the comfort and safety of our home from which another melody can welcome another day. That’s my outlook.
