Dear Readers,

How I love the change of seasons. In early March I saw the first dandelion and nearby a second. And then I noticed the daffodils sprouting everywhere. How cheerfully I welcome the early harbingers of Spring. What a blessing it is to live in the northern hemisphere where Spring coincides with Lent and Easter. Such signs of hope – from the tiny purple, white, and yellow crocuses in their Lent and Easter colors to the redbuds, azaleas, purple hyacinths, and pink and white apple blossoms – all dressed up in Spring finery. What a joyful season with so much to anticipate. And then Summer follows, the fulfillment of the promise. Chartreuse new leaf growth deepens to dark green. The May showers bring their wealth of flowers. The strawberries and cherries ripen to become the taste of summer. The vegetable garden gets serious and, finally, store bought tomatoes move over and the amazing fresh-picked gems bring joy to the taste buds.

And then there’s the Spring and Summer music. Even with snow on the ground, it’s a sure sign of impending Spring to wake up to a chorus of cheerful chirps, twitters, and tweets, nothing at all like their vitriolic and bitter namesakes on social media. I call it God’s orchestra engaging in the morning tune-up before the day’s symphony. And it will play all summer in an extended run. I especially love the little brown wren who makes up for her tiny size with a huge voice breaking out into glorious solos, and the show-off mocking bird who shares his wide-ranging repertoire from the tippy top of a tall tree.

How I love to sit at my dining room window with a grandchild on my lap pointing out the birds who come to the feeder. “See that little one in the black cap. That’s a chickadee. He gets his name from his chick-a-dee-dee-dee call. He never stays at the feeder to eat, but comes for carryout.” The blue jays squabble like quarrelsome children. “It’s my feeder! Go find your own,” one seems to say as he chases his brother. They are alpha birds, but some are definitely more alpha than others. The cardinals quarrel too, but not with the jays. And neither the jays nor the cardinals mess with the red-bellied woodpecker. They are leery of his long, dangerous beak. But you rarely see that agreeable bird bother any of the others. He’s willing to share as if to say, “There’s plenty for all. Can’t you play nice?” Although I did see him chase away a mourning dove one day. Perhaps he wanted to breakfast with a more happily named bird.

Watching our feathered friends and their relations with their neighbors sets me thinking about people. Be honest, we’re a lot like the birds: the odd ducks and dumb clucks, the dirty birds and the birds of a feather who flock together for good or ill, the clucking hens that come to a bad end and the preening peacocks.

There are birds that bring joy to the heart as well, however, like the blue birds of happiness. We are entertained almost every morning as we pray the rosary on the front porch. A bluebird and his mate perch on our car mirror and admire their reflections in the window. The male apparently mistook himself for a rival after his girl because he flew at him. There is something charming about a bird who wants to protect his mate. Isn’t that what men should do? And then there are the wise old owls we can consult and the early birds who catch the worms and teach us the value of work.

Reflecting on the birds offers an opportunity to think about how we should behave with one another. Do we want to resemble the greedy sparrow or the agreeable tufted titmouse, the friendly woodpecker or the nasty blue jay? Do we want to be vain and haughty like the peacock or humble like the little wren?

I think if I had to choose a bird to imitate it would the little gray phoebe, a member of the flycatcher family. Every Spring she returns like clockwork to raise one or two broods. What a worker! She builds the mud and grass nest by herself. Once the brood arrives, she’s never far from the nest and raises a fuss whenever she feels her little ones are threatened. She and her mate fly back and forth all day with tasty morsels for the babies. What busy, faithful parents they are. Not only that, but they eat up harmful and annoying insects. We can certainly use more phoebes around here to consume the annoying Shenandoah Valley gnats.

Studying nature can draw us close to the heart of God. All creatures except man and the fallen angels obey Him. We, however, made in His image and likeness with reason and free will, can choose to rebel or to obey Him out of love. Some see obedience as a tyrant interfering with their “right to choose.” In reality, obeying God Who is all Love and Truth is the surest way to happiness and peace. May this season of growth and beauty open our eyes to the absolute wonder of God and His love. He has given us so much for our delight. May we have hearts full of thanksgiving and voices lifted in praise for His blessings.

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