Food for the Soul

This piece was written several years ago  and used as one of my columns when I wrote  for the Clinch County News. It was the beginning  of my realization that you really do have to take time to smell the flowers and  watch the birds :) One Sunday, not too long ago, the arrival of a flock of small birds in my back yard  was reason enough for me to stop my chores and take a break. A few years ago, I would have kept working.  Back then, I'd have thought the chores  were more important. In the last few of years though,  I've discovered bird-watching, yet another  of my "growing older" hobbies. So when I glanced out my kitchen window that afternoon and saw the noisy gathering of little birds, I was pleased.  I eased to the back porch with my  binoculars and bird book and  settled into a chair to watch them. Right away, I knew they weren't locals. At first glance, they looked like sparrows. But on closer inspection, I saw they were too small.  Their brownish, heavily streaked bodies indicated they weren't warblers or wrens. A splash of light yellow across their wings and tail glinted when they were in flight.  The wheezy calls they made filled the  afternoon air. I was intrigued to find out what they were and flipped furiously through my  book. By this time the group, numbering between twelve and fifteen, was taking full advantage  of my hospitality. They perched, four or five at a time on the bird bath, drinking and socializing. They fussed for a space at the feeder, slinging seeds in all directions. Everyone seemed to be making  themselves at home. After about twenty minutes, I had them pegged.  They were Pine Siskins, and the book's map  suggested their spring/summer range  included  most of Canada and the Pacific Northwest.  Apparently, they were taking a rest before returning to their summer homes. As I looked at those tiny birds and then calculated the distance they had traveled to be sitting there in my  backyard, I was amazed! Often, I've been  filled with awe by something I've seen or read concerning wild animals and birds. This was definitely one of those times. According to the map, they spend winter across a large part of the Midwest and eastern United States. I was lucky enough to be living in the very edge of the southernmost section to which they migrate. Around three, they began to thin out, winging  away to the woods beyond our house. I felt grateful to be at home on  the day, and at the very time, those little snowbirds decided to visit. This chance meeting had turned what seemed like an ordinary day into something extraordinary. There's a quotation by Frank Lloyd Wright that goes: Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature.  It will never fail you. I came across it a several  years ago, at a point in my life, when I felt  overwhelmed by the stress and worry that  accompanies our modern lifestyles. For me, it was a turning point. The simplicity and  truth in that saying made perfect sense. I'd always  loved the outdoors as a child, but somehow, adult responsibilities made me forget that. I've come to realize that the beauty in nature is there for a reason: our enjoyment. The tranquility and sense of wonder it gives us fill a void like nothing else can. It's taken me a while, but I've come to appreciate these experiences for the gifts they are.  Perhaps because we're all  so busy anymore, we think we don't have time to step back and enjoy the natural beauty that  surrounds us everyday. It might be something as simple as the sight  of a rainbow after a thunderstorm or a gorgeous sunset on the horizon as you round a curve.  Maybe it's the sweet smell of honeysuckle  on a warm summer evening or the glorious  song of a mockingbird in the early morning.  Or perhaps the sight of azaleas in full  bloom at the beginning of Spring. Think about how you feel after experiencing such a moment. For me, it's a feeling of satisfaction  and peace. I think that's because it fills a need in us that is as essential as eating, drinking or breathing. Consider it food for our souls, hungry from the frantic pace of everyday life. I know those birds  weren't the only ones who were fed that afternoon. I, too, felt satisfied, content. And the chores, they were still there, long after the birds had flown. Rose Steedley Williams ©Southernstoryteller~2004