I've learned a lot from watching the birds over these past weeks

Over the past week or two, as the people of our nation have begun to be released from lockdown, the increase of traffic on local roads and the number of people out and about has been even more noticeable than usual for us, as the Highlands open up for the ‘tourist season’.

In some ways living up here in the far North of the UK has offered us some protection and the abundance of plants, animals and birds right on our doorstep has provided us with opportunities for wonder and distraction.

During the past couple of months, I have become especially aware of the birds, with their beautiful spring and summer plumage and songs that resonate with joy! I’ve even found time to look through bird identification books and spotted yellowhammers, redwings and all manner of finches. I have to admit that I am a complete amateur when it comes to bird identification and don’t really consider myself to be a bird-watcher, but in trying to find out the names of birds I have come across groups of people who refer to themselves as bird watchers and other groups who call themselves ‘twitchers’ and I have wondered if there is a difference?

From what I can tell ‘twitchers’ seem to be people who rush off whenever something rare or unusual is reported, so they can say they’ve seen it and tick it off their list. But they don’t necessarily learn much about the bird in question, which is often out of context, away from its normal habitat, blown off-course by a storm.

Watchers, on the other hand, wait, look, consider and take time to be where the birds are: they have a much more contemplative approach . They go out in all weathers, sometimes see very little, and from time to time, have one of those rewarding moments which make it all worthwhile.

All of this can have parallels with our spiritual lives. We sometimes rush off to get the latest spiritual experience, an instant glow of holiness, or a spiritual high. We could learn a thing or two from the bird watchers - to be still, alert, but not anxious, eyes open and aware. Ready to receive what we are given.

Watching the birds over the past few months has taught me that everything is a gift. I may go out hoping to see a particular bird – but it may not be in evidence. I can’t control the movement of the birds. And if I am too intent on seeing one particular bird, I may miss a lot of other things that are around.

Prayer is a bit like that. Prayer is like watching for the Yellowhammer. All you can do is be where he is likely to appear and wait. Often, nothing much happens. There is space, silence and expectancy. No visible sign, only the knowledge that he’s been there before and may come again. Seeing or not seeing cease to matter, you have been prepared. But sometimes, when you’ve almost stopped expecting it, a flash of brightness gives encouragement.

So, all is a gift. The work we have to do is to be prepared, in the right habit, with the right disposition. And then we have to respond with thanksgiving for God’s amazing love which cares even for the sparrows, endangered species that they have become.

The Buzzards glorious wings, the tiny Wren’s song, the mystery of migration, the miracle of flight. And each one of us is considered more precious. A mystery to ponder.

Sitting outdoors, surrounded by birds, where better to spend a day pondering?

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