His Eye is on the Sparrow

Today was to be my easy day this week. I’ve nothing on my schedule, no appointments, no paperwork to complete, no calls to make. Thursday and Friday both are packed but today was wide open. So, what do I do? Wake up at 3:30. Beautiful. When I was a teenager and would ask my dad how long I could stay out on the weekends he would always answer the question this way, “I can’t think of anything good that happens at 2 o’clock in the morning, can you?” That was his round about way of saying, “be home by midnight.” Well, I am here to tell you that nothing good happens at 4 o’clock in the morning either. Although, there was this...

I emptied the dishwasher around quarter to five. The sky was just starting to glow with the first faint streams of daylight. I had noticed earlier that it was in the low 60’s so I decided to step out on the deck. I was greeted by what sounded like a bird choir, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir of the Audubon Society. From every direction I could hear them. There must have been ten different songs going on at the same time yet they all blended together to make something beautiful. It was still too dark to make out even a single bird, but the evidence of them was in the air all around me. I stood still for a moment and closed my eyes. What a delight to hear such a thing in the early morning twilight. I wondered for a moment what they were saying to each other...Looks like its gonna be another scorcher...Little worried about the Dunnevant’s feeder, its getting a bit low...Don’t worry, they always take care of us... At least, I hope that’s what they think. They would be right. Every two weeks we reload that feeder with premium, no mess seed. Our feeder has been in the same location for over five years now, attached to the railing of the deck. The first couple of years the birds were more skittish, scurrying away every time we made an appearance. Now, they know us better, they understand that we won’t hurt them, so they come and eat even if we are sitting just a few feet away...

They’re right. It is getting low. I’ll be sure to fill it before the end of the day. 

The squirrels, fortunate enough to not already have been killed, always try to get at the bird’s food and always fail, often hilariously so. The birds in our neighborhood seem to understand that this is theirs. We get an endless stream, all day, every day. Every type of bird you can imagine in every color, shape and size. They are all endlessly fascinating. Sometimes there will be half a dozen are more at the same time. Two or three will be eating while the rest wait on the railing in a line like people at the DMV, only much more patient and better dressed. Sometimes when I’m watching them I think of that old verse in the Bible, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them fall to the ground outside your father’s care.”

His eye is on the sparrow.

So are mine.