Beady Eyes and Red Leggings

Interest in birds has always seemed like an old person thing. Not that I don’t like birds. Or, old people, for that matter. I do. I like to hear their melodic songs in the early morning hours. The birds, I mean. But, for me, birds have always just been part of the environment. I haven’t actually paid that much attention to them. I guess, now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve just, basically, taken the birds for granted.

I’m starting to feel bad about that.

Anyway, when I first met Steve’s parents I thought they had an inordinate interest in birds. His dad had numerous bird feeders around and flocks of birds would fly into their yard to eat. They were colorful and pretty. But, I mean, they were…birds. His parents got all excited about them and could identify various ones. It was all a little weird, if you asked me.

I’ve noticed, this summer, however, that along with numerous other backyard improvement projects, Steve has hung a bird feeder. It is sort of a cutesy deal, made from a broken picture frame. He’s creative and it works. And the birds love it! Not as much as the squirrels, maybe, but they love it. All kinds of birds are coming to our yard now. ‘Feasting from the frame,’ I like to call it.

Many mornings we get up early and go outdoors to enjoy our coffee. The birds come around for their breakfast and we are starting to see the same ones (or at least they look like the same ones…it is hard to tell) coming around regularly. And yes, I have a propensity to name them and give them human characteristics. Like one plain-Jane little Mourning Dove who I swear is wearing red tights. I mean she may be in mourning, but, I’m pretty sure she puts on those red tights to say, “Look at me world!” Steve thinks maybe she’s supposed to have legs that color but I’m pretty sure a drab, grey bird had to take matters into her own hands...or wings, I suppose...and brighten up her wardrobe.

I can relate.

So anyway, there we were one morning, talking and watching the birds when Steve said, “I wonder what that one with the orange head is.” I looked at him aghast. He was quick to assure me that he wasn’t going to get all bird wacky on me and start reading bird identification books. I was skeptical. With good reason.

A few days later, Steve came home from a trip to the library and, tucked into the middle of a stack of books was…a bird identification book! Hey, now…I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen! He assured me it was just a temporary lapse of judgment. The book is still here, though.

I admit, I sort of like the bird thing.

And if that means I’m getting old. Well, so be it. I’m going to get old regardless, so why not do it while enjoying the company of birds. And besides, there’s nothing wrong with getting old. We don’t have a lot of choice in the matter so we might as well embrace it.

With all this bird business, I’ve noticed something. Birds eat a lot. Which is fine. I don’t think they eat more than they need, although they do eat frequently. But they don’t hoard. I don’t see any squabbling or fussing about ‘me first.’ They simply fly in, eat a bit, and then fly out. I’ve yet to see a bird look worried about whether or not there will be enough.

Which has me thinking that we really ought to learn from the birds. Maybe we shouldn’t worry so much about tomorrow. Maybe we don’t have to hoard and save and stock up. Maybe we should simply trust that what we need will be there for us when we need it. Our culture doesn’t teach that, of course. But, I’m not sure our culture has it right. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned from the birds…take what you need and leave the rest for the others.

And, when feeling drab. Wear red.