Hi friends! I’m sitting outside in my favorite type of weather - cool, crisp, 48 degrees, sunny - the kind of weather you need a blanket and multiple layers on and probably another blanket. But, also the kind of weather where I keep switching where I’m sitting to stay in the sun. It’s quiet here too. My kids are at a youth winter retreat this weekend, so it is definitely quieter for the hubs and I. As I’m been typing this, I’ve seen multiple bluebirds and the squirrels are having a party in the trees. I have a bird app that will identify the birds by the sounds you record. My father-in-love told me about it in the mountains this summer and sitting outside with the family listening to the birds was one of my favorite moments of that trip.
I guess you could say I’ve become a bit of a birdwatcher. I think that was from a year ago when I was super sick and could barely get outside. On good days I could sit outside on the porch and watch the cardinals. Over weeks, I noticed a nest being made in my hanging fern and then a momma sitting protectively. Then a few weeks later, I was THERE when the baby birds hatched and learned to fly. I texted my husband to tell the kids they were not allowed to come outside unless they were super quiet - which they were when they came. Maybe they’ve become birdwatchers like their momma. I felt like that momma bird and I were kindred spirits by the time all the babies learned to fly, some later than others. That momma was so patient in teaching them - well, and she definitely encouraged them with loud sqwaking (sp?) too. I also remember a huge Texas thunderstorm rolled in when the momma was still nesting. That fern whipped back and forth and she just stayed still. I did too in case she needed anything. =)
When that momma set up her house in my fern, you better believe I was volunteering to make her curtains. She was doing what I wasn’t fully able to do for my own home at the time. I told my husband I wish I could peek into the nest every day to say hello and check on those babies - but, knowing that might scare the mom away, I stayed put. A few hours later, I heard a drill and some hammering outside. My hubs had taken a camera we had installed at our previous house, mounted it above the fern, and positioned it so we could see the baby birds and the momma. I still have it saved on my home app on my phone where we can see all the cameras - that camera is saved as “Bird cam”. And, it makes me laugh. And, very grateful.
Do you see the camera in the above picture? And the momma bird I was watching? You see, that camera was installed at our previous house for extra security when threatening messages were left. That, hands down, was the scariest thing we have gone through. Now at our new house, we don’t need as many cameras - so the bird cam is not installed. Yet. But, this time I want my husband to install somewhere I can see the birds or hummingbirds or butterflies. Or the gopher that keeps trying to get into my garden. (He’s silly and got in the garden a few times. One of those times, we were all in the garden and chased him out - or rather we chased him around and around and around because he couldn’t find the gate. That was a great day! And, full of loud laughter and joy - just ask my neighbor who was watching and came out to laugh at us later.)
I’m not sure why I’m thinking about that story of the momma bird today. It was probably because the birds are finally coming back to my yard this winter - or more accurately, I’m finally out here to notice. Thankfulness is like that too, isn’t it? At least for me it is. It’s always there, but I need to notice.
Today, I’m noticing the bird cam and thinking about where I want to install it. I’m also noticing that the camera installed out of fear and protection is now a camera of sheer delight of birds and butterflies and a garden. Of noticing that the flowers in my garden and birds are indeed taken care of, just like Jesus said they would be on the Sermon on the Mount. Maybe I’m thinking of this today because I needed a reminder that I am taken care of too.
So, today, I will notice. I will sit out here in the crisp air, chasing the sun, watching the birds. And, remembering that we are indeed taken care of. Just like the birds.
Scary cameras can be redeemed for delight. So can hard seasons in life.
-Emily
PS: I’ll keep you updated on where we (read: my hubs) install it.
Thank you for this beautiful reflection. We had a nest in one of the birdhouses our kids and their dad built in the spring of 2020. We spent so much time outside that year, and watched as the parent birds spent their entire days zooming back and forth with food for their babies and hearing the babies frantic chirps as they left and returned each time. This at a time when feeding my own 5, 5 and 11 year olds was feeling particularly burdensome, but definitely not as all-encompassing as it was for those birds! We didn't have a camera because of it being inside a birdhouse (but I definitely tried to dream a way that wouldn't be disruptive!). We had hoped to see the babies as they left the nest, but they decided to depart during a string of classically rainy Pacific NW days.