Lynna Clark: Bluebirds in Wonderland
Bluebirds in Wonderland
I really love bluebirds. You know the ones… bright periwinkle backs with reddish orange fronts. They’re pretty shy and particular about their dwellings. We have the perfect little house for them right outside the window where I sit and write. Yesterday in the dead of winter with around seven inches of snow on the ground, I watched as a male and female stopped in to get warm. Like us they stayed tucked in all day just watching the rare production outside. Our little corner of the world turned into a wonderland. I was happy to be inside and glad for the bluebird couple to have a place to cuddle up too.
As usual about 1:30 in the morning, I made my way to the bathroom to uh… empty the gallon of coffee I had consumed during the day. I peeked out the window at my snow covered wonderland. All was calm… all was bright since the streetlights bounced shadows across the yard. Then suddenly, all was NOT calm. A giant bird of prey sat on top of my bluebird house as if waiting for breakfast. By the filtered light I could make out the shape of either a small hawk or an owl. Since the shoulders were wide I guessed it to be an owl and I wondered if owls snack on bluebirds. So as not to wake my beloved, I closed the bathroom door, opened the window and made the scariest cat noises I knew how. I meowed ferociously, I growled, I even tried yelling threats.
“Hey you on the birdhouse! You’d better move your sorry bag of bones before I get my slingshot and knock that big ol’ square head off your shoulders!” That thing was not impressed. It just hunkered down waiting for the coming buffet. It seemed to taunt me with the fact that my bluebirds would have to come out at some point and it would be waiting.
I sighed, closed the window and went back to bed. David never stirred. For that I was glad. Still I tossed and turned and worried about my little birds all night. I even threw a token prayer up for the safety of my favorite feathered friends. A sick feeling came over me as I considered the fact that even owls have to eat. When morning came I quickly made my way to the window to check on the carnage.
There was none.
However there was a big clump of snow on top of the birdhouse… kind of a squared off body with a wide head.
About that time the brightest bluebird flew from the house and landed on a nearby branch. He was likely scoping out better digs for he and the little woman. It seems there was a crazy cat keeping them awake half the night.
Why do I do that? If life isn’t bad enough I find something to fret about. When life is a wonderland… I find something to fret about.
“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to Him than they are? Can all our worries add a single moment to your life?” –Matthew 6:26,27
As the old Gospel hymn reminds, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me!”
Too bad He saw all that crazy coming out my bathroom window last night.
Lynna Clark lives in Salisbury. Read more at Lynna’s Wonderful Life at wordpress.com