Watching the trees on my walks this week, I spotted more birds than I could count.
Hawks, black birds, turkeys, red-bellied sparrows, falcons, ravens, golden and bald eagles. Canada geese, ducks, doves and pheasants. I even spied a small grey owl. My dog has made a new companion in the form of a friendly black crow. This crow waits for her to come outside to play, then dips and dives as she runs in circles barking and bouncing around. It happens all of the time now!
"I was definitely an eagle," my son had said softly in the car on the way to the bus stop.
"I can totally see that," I had replied.
Hawks have always been one of my favorite creatures. Growing up, my brother and I had invented our own secret hawk language and we would call to each other from the different trees by way of high pitched screeches.
One windy day this week, a red tailed hawk followed me along the road. Every time I looked around, there it was, looking back. In this tree or that. On a fence post or circling in the sky.
What would you say to a hawk?
My conversation went something like this: You are magnificent. Thank you for reminding me of what I hold so dear. Of a natural life. Balance. I am so sorry that there is garbage along the sides of the road. I will come back with a bag and clean it up. You have so much to teach us.
The old expression That is for the birds seems a bit dismissive, for I wholeheartedly believe that the birds know more than we do. They live a life in tune with their nature. Singing with the morning sun, building their homes from the natural resources nearby, never leaving the tiniest piece of trash.
My beautiful friend suggested a new book for me to read, one that speaks of the bird tribes and an ancient knowledge of the winged. The messages it has been offering have smacked me right in the heart.
Recently I learned that birds can hear you listening. Think about that one for a moment. They sing their song and can hear you hear it. AMAZING.
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