Saturday, July 18, 2009

The Eyes of All Wait Upon Thee

     I admit I am a morning person. Not just the kind that likes to get up early, but the kind that gets up at the crack of dawn and is insufferablyThe wrens get first crack. cheerful. My poor parents who are pretty much night people say it was easy to get me to go to bed in the evening as a child, but that I was wide awake by 5:30 AM chattering and happy. Amazingly, this sort of behavior is not much appreciated by my own children. I’ve learned, therefore, to “hide my light under a bushel” if for no other reason than to avoid a poorly aimed shoe being thrown in my general direction after I sing out, “Good morning!” I quietly get up, savor a rich, strong cup of coffee made from ground espresso beans, say my prayers, and then peruse the day’s news.

     One of the great advantages of being a morning person is getting to enjoy watching the Breakfast Flock in my backyard. I have a very civilized group of birds who have taken it upon themselves to organize their visits to my two feeders in shifts. The quail.At dawn, the tiny wrens get first pick; after awhile the quail show up with their echoing cries; finally the pigeons come lumbering in like bulky cargo planes to fill up. Now and then, I get more exotic birds: a screeching blue jay will stop by and bully everyone for awhile. Soon, however, the Breakfast Flock returns to its feeding schedule. About once a day, a squirrel I’ve named Bandit, sneaks under the back fence and helps himself. Often he shimmies right up the thin metal pole of the feeder and perches on top, reaching right down into the tray to snatch the best sunflower seeds.

     It’s probably not important that any of my visitors make the connection between “that clumsy human who lives at the house” and their feeders being regularly filled. The pigeons get their fill.Sometimes, especially in the winter when I haven’t realized the feeders are empty, the cheeps and chirps change and take on a prayerful, pleading sound. I don’t think they’re trying to send me a message, but I suspect they are pleading with the One whose eye is on the sparrow. Bandit gets his fair share.As I watch them this fine summer morning, they aren’t thinking about far away winter; they just speak of their own excitement and gratitude at finding food for the day.


     The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thou givest them their meat in due season.

– Ps 145:15

2 comments:

  1. I'm a morning person too. Fortunately most of my family follow suit. My dog, Isabelle, though, really likes to sleep in. Go figure. I love the photos of the birds and especially the one of bandit.

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  2. Rick, Amelia, you'd surely have to hide your morning light under a basket around me, because I am a slow starter, a very slow starter, and since I've retired, I've become very much a night person.

    On the occasional morning when I must get out and about, it is lovely, but I can't rouse myself to do unless I must. Thank goodness that Grandpère mostly reads the newspapers in the morning, because he is a chattering type, and I can't bear too much of that too early.

    The squirrels here have multiplied amazingly. They are now road kill from having to cross the street to find food enough for their numbers. They manage to defeat every squirrel-proof bird feeder that we have ever had. Periodically GP traps a few to release in the woods nearby.

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