The little songbirds dressed in their winter plumage are all over the bird feeders, singing and flitting around. I wonder if they are cold. I read that birds shiver to stay warm. Chickadees can maintain a body temperature of 100 degrees even when the temperature is 0 degrees. They are tough little creatures. I’m thankful for my warm house and my furnace and I hope those homeless souls shivering in the night can find some source of warmth. Most of us are so blessed, just turn the stove on, just turn the thermostat up, not thinking of those who have no home, no heat, no food. We’re so spoiled. Pray for those less fortunate.

Langston Hughes said, “Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” We are like the birds in many ways. We love the freedom of being alive in this blue sky world. We find a mate, build our nests, raise our young, set them free. Some of us fly alone just as happily as those that flock and fly together. I love the quote, “l know why the caged bird sings,” by Maya Angelou. Birds are either flying free or caged. When we fly by God’s wings we are flying with hope and purpose. When we’re caged we sing without the light of God’s love, a lonesome song without hope of a better tomorrow, a song longing for the freedom that comes from a loving God.

God has been depicted as a bird in biblical scripture. Doves represent peace and new beginnings, symbols of purity, grace, and gentleness. In Luke 3:21-22 the scripture reads, “When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove.” We read in Matthew that “the Spirit of God descended like a dove and came to rest on him.”

I have a genuine love of God’s wondrous little songbirds. I know I spend too much money feeding them and too much time sitting in the swing watching them but I feel I’m in God’s cathedral with the birds, my porch swing my church pew. I know God sends me the songbirds to cheer me, give me peace, sooth my soul. I feel his grace in the songbird’s presence. I feel Chief’s presence when I see a crimson cardinal.

I think my feelings for songbirds goes back to the day after my daughter‘s death. I woke up to a bright blue sky on a beautiful sunny day. I was looking out the back door, thinking how dare the world be so beautiful when my daughter was dead. Suddenly this fat little chickadee landed on the old wrought iron coat rack on the back porch, looking me straight in the face with her little bright black eyes. I suddenly had an overwhelming feeling that little bird was Rosalyn, telling me she was fine and all was right in her little heavenly world.

One of my friends sent me this quote about the sunset, beautiful words to add to my collection. “Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It’s the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray painted by a graffiti artist.” I love the color imagery in that quote. Saffron is a beautiful color for the sun at sunset, a blend of yellow and orange, sometimes a deep golden yellow.

I watched the sunset tonight, a pale orangey-peach tint walking across the horizon as Mother Nature’s watercolor brushes stroked a golden yellow wash on the clouds floating above the skyline. The sun walked on stage dressed as a fiery ball of golden light, slowly rolling down her peach runway. Father Sky grabbed her hand and the wind quickly pushed them down through the sunset’s twilight. As the wintry wind blew, the sun turned her cheek to Father Sky, switching off the day’s light as he kissed her goodnight and tucked her in quilt of clouds. The waning crescent moon and the bejeweled stars coldly lit up the navy sky canopy as the night began to wake.

The wind chimes are pinging their night music now serenading the yard’s night creatures. A rumbling freight train, speeding through the nightfall, is blowing its lonely forlorn whistle, the sound echoing into the dark down the steel rails in the night now wide awake in its darkness.

“No matter what yesterday was like, birds always start the new day with a song,” Rumi. I love that quote. What a wonderful way to look at life. We can have a new day each day. We can start afresh when the sun rises tomorrow. The past is behind us, today is upon us, and no need to worry about tomorrow.

“Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground.” — Theodore Roosevelt