It’s For The Birds

“In order to see birds, it is necessary to become a part of the silence.”
― Robert Lynd

Something strange and wonderful happened this past year. I discovered birds. What’s so great about that you might ask? It’s not that I’ve never noticed them before, on the contrary, but I seem to have developed a whole new understanding of them and the reason for this is what I am writing about.

If last year was a ‘thank god that’s over’ experience, this year has been one of transformation, a cycle marking new beginnings and significant endings. There have been flash moments of joy, of recognition, and bittersweet reflection in the most unexpected of places. Grief can change us forever in unanticipated ways. Suddenly one day a light appears at the end of our dark tunnel and we move forward. Life can become so much simpler and quieter. We can feel and notice things more and even become healthier. We might hear or see wonderful things that we never really noticed before. We can become more absorbed by moments instead of hours, our life unfolding like one of those pellets that blossom into a flower when dropped into a glass of water.

bird

/bərd/

noun

plural noun: birds

1. 1.

   a warm-blooded egg-laying vertebrate distinguished by the possession of feathers, wings, and a beak and (typically) by being able to fly.

I’ve discovered that living on the 21st floor of a hi-rise facing an ocean and a huge wooded park provides a perfect perch for observing a variety of avians as they go about their daily business. Recently, late in an afternoon, I went out on my balcony to check on something and suddenly all these birds came shooting by. Gulls, Crows, groups of swooping Starlings with the sun glinting off their feathers, a Hummingbird hovering, Pigeons, and an Eagle, like an arrow with beak outstretched racing intently toward the trees. Later, my partner alerted me to a large flock of Canada Geese honking loudly along the coast flying off to wherever it is they go. It was an impromptu air show of the most exquisite form of flight. And how I envied them.

Here, where the sun rises at 5 a.m. and sets at 10 p.m. during the summer months, the birds wake very early to lend a unique cacophony of chirps and caws and trills heralding in the new day, a dawn chorus. Assorted feathered creatures can be observed lounging and feeding at the beach in a congenial, multi-cultural mix. In the Spring, I often come across the birds remembered from my earlier years; Magpies, Robin Red Breasts, Sparrows, Wrens, Warblers, Doves, Herons, and Chickadees. The trees take to loudly chirping with tiny invisible songbirds that can only be seen if one peers up into the branches in the center of the tree. I have also often come across two crows sitting side-by-side overhead, appearing to be having some sort of an argument and whenever I see them I wonder if it’s the same pair.

Last May I had the great fortune to witness seagull couples starting their families, jointly and tirelessly caring for the two or three offspring they hatched. There were many anxious moments while the babies grew and always a great relief when I noted that all was well. I took to calling them Baby Hueys. They grew quickly and in mid-August began scurrying about, flapping and trying their wings. By the end of the month, the Baby Hueys had all become fledglings, finally flying away. Initially, they haunted the nest sites, the parents still checking in and sometimes feeding them in an attempt to quiet the loud and incessant chirping that could be heard all over the neighborhood. They would fly by my window and I swear that I could see the pure bliss of soaring in the flap of their wings, a smile curving their beaks. I would sometime see them walking about the streets, looking lost and bewildered with tufts of feathers on the tops of their heads like some trendy haircut. I miss them all.

You could likely be correct in citing that I had engaged myself in a form of bird therapy. According to an article in Psychology Today, .’..bird sounds engage the human brain as well, conveying information about our surroundings. They foster a connection with nature, which research shows may provoke effortless attention, restore alertness, reduce stress, decrease hostility, and promote a sense of well-being’. I am grateful for all the feathered dinosaur ancestors that fly past my windows and often perch on the railing, for their daily songs that I can hear even if I can’t see them, and for their reminders that there is magic in our days, that anything can happen if you simply be quiet and listen.

This post was written by Jude L. Gorgopa, Founder of Clout Et Cetera & The Fundamentals of Clout. For resources, services, and eBooks, go to cloutetcetera.com

Baby Hueys at the beach. It takes 3 years for gulls to mature. They start off a brownish gray then gradually take on a grey and white speckled coat before becoming gray and white adults.