The cold air kissed my cheeks as I walked Penelope down the street and over the broken sidewalk obstacle course this morning. The sky was clear and beautifully blue, the sunshine bright yellow. Mr. First Quarter Moon stayed up late to enjoy the beautiful dawn breaking on another blue sky cold winter’s day. I saw him perched up high in the blue heavens watching us as he got ready for his moonset. The day’s cold is kissing my cheeks pink and making Penelope frisky as she pulls me along.

Later, sitting upstairs at the desk in the guest room I can see the old oak and its bird feeders and bird baths. My yard is full of songbirds gathering for breakfast, warming their bellies in the cold. I think songbirds are gifts from God. I love their songs in the early hours, the absolute silence of the day’s beginning when they sing their little hearts out. Mehmet Murat Ildan wrote, “Not humans, but birds often witness the most beautiful mornings in this world!”

I love to watch the flocks of songbirds sway in the wind as they fly in patterns through the yards on my street. As they turn in perfect harmony and change directions, the sun highlights their beautiful plumage. I love the large gray shadows of the turkey buzzards flying in circles up high. Their shadows drift across the street and dance on the pink brick wall. I love the little songbirds loud flitting and arguing over the bird feeder perches. Love seeing all the cardinals. My heart tells me they are gifts from Chief. Watching the wood thrush bathe in the bird bath enthralls me like a child. I love my bobbing head doves with their thick pink feet, their unsteady dances on the power lines tickle me. And the goldfinches, who always arrive on the anniversary of Rosie’s death, have comforted me with their presence. The little songbirds are the epitome of being free and courageous. They sit on the tiniest branches knowing when the branch sways and bends, they are safe with their wings. I feel the same way about God. He keeps me safe under his wings when life sways and bends.

I’ve often wondered how many pair of birds were in the ark with Noah and his family. The songbirds probably were subdued in their symphonies since they had no sunrise to welcome the day with song. But what glorious songs they must have sung that first morning when the sun rose and painted that beautiful arch of heavenly watercolors across the heavens. Joan Walsh Anglund writes, “A bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.” We all have a song we just have to have the confidence to sing. Claude Monet wrote, “I would like to paint the way a bird sings.” I think about that quote when I hear the beautiful love symphony of a songbird singing to its mate.

In The Nature Corner, Ernie Marshall writes, “In our depiction of angels, we have not given them the strength of lions but the wings of birds. Perhaps this is our ultimate tribute to our feathered friends.” God covers us with his wings, keeps us safe in his arms of grace. Psalm 91:4 reads, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” God’s loving protection covers like a hen’s wing feathers protect her chicks. We always have a safe haven in the Lord’s arms. Scripture in Matthew 6 reads, “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” If God is taking care for the little songbirds he certainly is caring for us and our lives. God takes care of all his creation and we’re all valued and cherished by him.

I love watching the sun set each afternoon. Some days the horizon will light up like a blazing wildfire and it’s wondrous to watch the flame colors blaze across the skyline and pale as they burn themselves out. Sunset today was beautiful in purple and blueberry and honey shades. The horizon was painted a honey gold, the layers of clouds were brush stroked by Mother Nature’s watercolors in layers of vanilla and gold and blueberry purple, their shades pale and ethereal where they melted together. High sky cotton ball clouds looked like pie meringue, their rounded tops kissed by the afternoon’s golden sunlight. The sun strutted down the stage, escorted by Father Sun, resplendently dressed in flaxen gold, walking between layers of blueberry and honey colored clouds. As the twilight swept over my yard, the sun turned out the day’s light, Father Sun went to wake the moon and to wake the stars to say goodnight to the day, welcoming the night. Maybe the sun kisses the day goodnight when she slips behind the horizon. Maybe I’ll ask her.

Sunrises and sunsets are predictable things that happen each day. Psalm 65:8 reads, “The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” We don’t worry about the sun not rising tomorrow. Even when the sun is hidden by clouds on the darkest of days, the sun is still shining down on us. God is always faithfully shining his love and light on us on our darkest days, too. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life,” John 8:12. We know tomorrow will come with a glorious sunrise announcing a brand new day. Another day for us to give thanks to God for our gift of life, thanks for a day of new hope and new wishes.

“Watching birds has become part of my daily meditation affirming my connection to the earth body.” — Carol P. Christ