An observation from this past spring...
In this world of contrast and controversy, I hear baby birds throughout the yard while I’m doing my morning work…watering, checking, pulling, planting, being. I imagine them to be in their little nests waiting for their mothers or fathers to come home with breakfast. And I imagine there are brightly colored and speckled eggs in nests perched in most of my trees and nestled in the tall grasses, waiting to hatch, waiting for their mothers to stop for a while and give them life. I imagine a whole community of “awesomeness” going on all around us as we go through the day not always noticing.
Their songs are stereophonic as I write from this handheld piece of technology while sitting outside in the shade, resting from the work and the heat, listening and wishing I took the time to know their different songs, wishing we all took more time to notice these gifts from Nature.
I am certain, however, that I hear baby birds. And I look up and see haste and intention from adult birds, so, I am right about breakfast.