To Never Lose Sight

The kitchen was galley style, long and narrow.  The cabinets, stove and refrigerator where on one side of the long rectangle, the kitchen table on the opposite side.  The table was galley style too.  Long and narrow.  Plus, it was attached to the wall with large ornate wrought iron brackets on each end, thus, it had no legs.  Children see things in their own world.  It was on my first couple of solo visits to friends that I realized no one else had a table attached to the wall.

Mother was a collector of many interests.  One of those interests was birds.  On the wall, above that galley style table, were many birds.  Some were pictures of birds, but most of them were actual three dimensional small sculptures or bas-relief plaques, where the bird seemed to emerge from the background.  Meals were always a treat when there was a blue jay perched precariously on a limb, above ones plate.  In her later years, her love of birds never wavered and she could fill many hours watching her feathered friends on the feeders outside her patio door.

Although the bird wall was constant material for jokes, it had more than just a decorative meaning.  It was actually a learning tool.  After many bowls of cereal and egg sandwiches, I learned the names of all the species on the wall.  Little did I know that those lessons would stay with me all through my life.

Mother endured our teasing about her bird love and was on the receiving end of many an eye roll.  Thinking about that, the Voice, that lives in my head, snickers and whispers in my ear, "What goes around, comes around." The Voice, as usual, is right.

I now hold the title, amongst my family members, as the bird lady.  There are five feeders right outside of the back patio doors and they are a constant flutter of activity.  A small woodland is the backdrop for this scene and it provides for many birds I had only seen in my trusty bird book.  The trusty bird book is always within arms reach and its pages show the wear of many searches.

There is rarely a time, when the grandchildren stop by that I do not have the opportunity to share a new bird find with them, or whip out the book to show them a picture.  They are tolerant of me, even though I have perceived the occasional eye roll.  

One of the most recent new bird sightings has been the Baltimore Oriole.  The picture in the book does not do it justice.  The color of orange is so vivid, it almost looks unreal or other worldly.  After rigging a small plastic container to the feeder pole, filling it with grape jelly, this beauty of the forest is a regular.  It is not unusual to find ten, or more different species all at once and I marvel at, not only their stunning colors, but their unique designs.  

The other day, my youngest grandson, nearly a teenager, sat at the table, looking out the patio doors.  He was telling me a story when all of a sudden his eyes grew big and he said "Oh wow!"  The Baltimore Oriole, in all its orange glory, had landed on top of the feeder.  The look on his face was priceless as he beheld a piece of the kingdom he had never seen.  He agreed that we would be hard pressed to find a more beautiful shade of orange.

These times we live in are strange and have many people fearful of what that future holds.  Perhaps if we took the time to not lose sight of what is really important, we would see a much different picture.  Perhaps finding joy and some inner peace from the simplest of things can ease our minds of current events, if only for a while.  Faith is what we make it and sometimes it is only a faint thin line.  That is a good time to remember when Jesus said that God takes care of all of his creations.  He even knows when a bird falls.