Bird Song
“...as
they strive
melodiously
not for
your sake
and not
for mine
and not
for the sake of winning
but for
sheer delight and gratitude--
believe
me, they say,
it is a
serious thing
just to be
alive
on this
fresh morning
in this
broken world...”
Mary
Oliver (from “Invitation” in A Thousand Mornings, Penguin Books)
Mary Oliver's poem is
about a flock of gold finches that has gathered for a sing-along. She asks
whether we have time to listen. And I ask that, too. I don't have
gold finches this morning, but do hear the chortling and warbling of
the brown thrashers that nest in the oak trees in my back yard. I try
to listen every chance I get. Who knows how long we will have
birdsong in this time of rapidly changing climate.
I remember my
great-grandmother Richardson from Jasper, Alabama, who came to visit
us in Chattanooga in 1952, when Eisenhower was running for office. I
was six years old. We had just gotten our very first television so
that my daddy could watch the election news. He worked for the TVA at
that time, and knew that Ike would drastically cut the public works
programs started by Roosevelt. Which, of course, he did. The TV was
one of those enormous brown cabinet sets with a small octagonal
screen that was mostly shades of gray. My great-grandmother had never
seen a television, so she was fascinated. I remember her perched in a
wing-back armchair pulled up right in front of it, in her gingham
dress and black, lace-up, chunky-heeled shoes with stockings. When a
commercial came on, she would shake her head and click her tongue and
say, “That lady is just l.y.i.n.g.” I wonder what she would think
of our world today.
We need to take a moment
out of our busy day, our busy lives, and listen to the birds sing,
y'all. Here's why:
“...do
not walk by
without
pausing
to attend
to this
rather
ridiculous performance.
It could
mean something.
It could
mean everything.
It could
be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must
change your life.”
(Oliver,
“Invitation”)
In the Spirit,
Jane
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