Birds

I enjoy birds.

I always have, though at times, with more intensity than others.

What it is about those little fluttering scraps of feathers that excites and inspires the imagination?

Their aeronautical acrobatics.
The delicately hued combination of feathers
The elaborate dances and dips and dives
Their pure lightness of being.
The language of their birdsong, with its alarming clucks, animated chatters, and soaring arias.

And the fact that each one is an individual, contributing in its own small way to the richness of God’s vast biodiversity. When I was boy I was given a book “Birds as Individuals” by Len Hutton, written way back in 1952, which opened my eye as a young teenager to the fact that it's not just about birds as species, but that each one is a separate individual, in particular, in the eyes of God, in the eyes of whom..

"not even a sparrow falls to the ground without its Heavenly Father knowing."

So there I was, Sunday morning, out walking by the river.
Early morning.
Sunrise.
The silence.
Before the runners, the walkers, the cyclists

And all at once, a reed warbler.
Least, that’s what think it is.
Dancing along the wire
Flitting between bush and fencing post
Just you and me, in a secret conversation.
Yes, I’ll leave your babies alone.
No, I won’t go near your nest
Just let me enjoy your beauty

In the early morning
Amen