Morning Song

Every time I try to set aside time to write lately my minds starts whirling and I can hardly sit still. Maybe we’ve all lost some degree of focus and our sense of control in recent months, control we only thought we had in the first place. So much uncertainty looms in the air. Will our kids go back to school? Will our cities need to shut down again? How will the economy recover? Will we find/keep a job? Will there be a vaccine soon? Are the sources of my news and information even accurate? What day is it today?

I spend a lot of time on our back porch in the mornings right now. In a normal summer I would be focused on getting everyone out the door and dropped off at camps or activities, but the pace is slower and sometimes quieter this season. And I’ve noticed something interesting in our backyard.

The condensation from our air conditioning unit creates a puddle just below and behind the chair I sit in on the porch. Every morning a little bird takes a loud and lengthy bath in that mud puddle. It splashes around and finishes its bath likely dirtier than it started all while its mom or mate looks on from a nearby tree. This bird and its friends chirp all day long, but especially loudly in the mornings. Of course this has surely been going on every other year, too. I’ve just never noticed it before.

Honestly, I’ve never been the least bit interested in birds. They’re cute and colorful, but I’ve never taken any time to consider them or their ways until I noticed the enthusiastic splashing around of our muddy morning bather. And now I’m a bit more interested in the mysterious ways of these miniature creatures. I’m amused {and sometimes annoyed} by how they sing all morning long.

I learned this past week that scientists call the loud and lively early morning singing of birds the Dawn Chorus. There are several theories out there as to why birds sing so loudly in the first hours of the day. But one theory is that they do so to announce to all the other birds in the area that they survived the night. This show of strength and vitality helps them attract or keep a mate. They sing to let the world know they’re here and they’re healthy.

Apparently the songbirds learn a few notes or songs, {some have more melodies than others in their repertoire} and they sing one of those specific songs each morning. They aren’t making random sounds. They are singing learned songs. And as it turns out, calling someone a “birdbrain” isn’t much of an insult because many of these tiny creatures are intelligent.

This concludes what I know about birds. But I think they may have something to teach us about resilience and about the beauty of song.

A bird does not sing because it has an answer.
It sings because it has a song.
{Chinese proverb)

Here in mid-July of this most bizarre year, it feels hard to chart our course. But while we humans don’t have words or certainty in our plans or answers to any of our questions, nature is still doing its thing. Creation is still pointing to a Creator. The songbirds are still singing every morning. And we can listen and remember to keep singing, too. Whether we’re better suited for a Dawn Chorus or a midday choir, our families and friends and anyone else who is listening might need to know we made it through the night and we’re here. We’re still singing. Not because we have an answer, but because we have a song.

I sing because I’m happy
I sing because I’m free
For his eye, his eye is on the sparrow
And I know, I know He’s watching me.

* Lyrics to “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” by Civilla D. Martin