Every bird is graced with fine unique traits. I came to cherish these little messengers who, from one fleeting moment to the next, accompanied my walks with divine precision. Song, design and presence is their language.
I love the silky gray catbird. It sings its long chatty songs in the woods, reminding me to be a listener. Black crows travel in threes and call down to me from high perches. When I hear the pleasant tapping of a woodpecker, I know to keep pursuing. Keep at it. You’ll get there. Whirling around the pond is that happy pair of ducks sporting smart suits, tucked neatly with a splash of iridescent teal. They know how to keep things fresh.
The red-winged blackbird is a sweetheart of mine; his song is the air of the reeds. I awe to witness one alit on a thin stalk, swaying for an instant with frailty and gone across the water to another bank. I can only follow its vibrant trill. The red-winged blackbird is alive in the ever-present now.
The red-tailed hawk arrives to prove the easy. How often I have plodded along, a ponderous load defeating my pace, when a hawk glides out from a tree line and circles wide above me. Silently, smoothly, confidently it is carried by God’s currents. It trusts, it flows, it thrives on His breath
Truly my soul silently waits for God; From Him comes my salvation.He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved. Psalm 62:1-2
Meeting God at the Park 