One Bird, One Word

This January morning is not one that is especially conducive to outdoor explorations, even those sedentary ones that involve sitting on the patio with a hot cup of coffee in hand.  For the fourth day in a row, it is grey and gloomy.  A thick fog envelops the nearby woods and pastures, and the often crystal clear view of the horizon only exists in my mind’s eye.  I am outdoors anyway, drawn by some strange compulsion to linger a while in one of my favorite locations. Inclement weather, lingering effects of an autumn bout of shingles, and the busyness of the holiday season have kept me from my typical outdoor excursions. This morning as I raised the blinds and looked out, I decided it was time to greet the morning’s invitation in person, regardless of weather or energy level.

By Texas standards, it is a cold day, the temperatures hovering in the upper thirties, the north wind blowing, the damp mist blanketing all.  I reached for my trusty LL Bean puffer coat, firmly zipped it up and donned a pair of hand-knitted mittens, glad for these cozy leftovers from former forays into Maine’s winter winds.  I looked towards the west at the spot specially designed for my favorite morning companions, the wild birds of Central Teas.  Bird sightings have dwindled considerably in the past few weeks.  Abundant rains have replenished the dry creek beds and stock tanks and the winter food supply is abundant.  The lure of my birdbath, a cone of sunflower seeds, and convenient perches rarely entices bird visitors nowadays. As the wind picked up and the mist began to dampen my face, I shivered.  I pictured my warm office chair, but decided to wait for just one bird to appear.  Then I would retreat indoors.

It was only a few minutes later that I spotted her- a single small chickadee that flitted in the mountain juniper tree from whose branches the feeder dangled.  She flew down and grabbed one seed, then headed up into the branches again. Chickadees often feed this way, grabbing a single seed before leaving the food supply, only to return a few minutes later and repeat the pattern.  Sure enough, about five minutes later, she was back to grab another morsel.  By that time, my cheeks were cold and dampness began to seep into my bones.  I had seen that one bird. My soul filled with a feeling I could not quite identify– a mixture of peace, a glimmer of joy, and a feeling of admiration for a little bird’s steadfast determination to feed itself. I went inside to refill my coffee cup and find that warm chair.

The New Year of 2024 is here, and the tradition for making resolutions and lists appears with it.  Many of us turn the physical pages of calendars or begin to write on pristine journal pages. Many keep track of the earth’s pathway and the calendar through electronic images. Some mark the days with ancient rituals or modern celebrations.  I often fall into a pattern of promise-making, filling a notepad with lists, intentions, ideas and resolutions.  I aspire to lose 10 pounds (Who doesn’t?); to exercise more faithfully (Who doesn’t?); to read more widely; to listen more carefully; to speak more kindly…the list often overwhelms even an inveterate list-maker like me. This year, however, I decide to keep it simple as I pay attention to a little chickadee and its morning appearance.  I follow the principle of One Bird, One Word (a principle I have just made up, but which you, dear readers, are welcome to follow).  That one little bird made a big impact on me. As a writer, I naturally connect the dots between One Bird and One Word. I think about the times that one little word has led me to an unexpected experience, a hard decision, a letting go, or a taking-up.  I think of the word, Yes that was the answer I gave when I moved hearth and kin 2000 miles away across the country into an unknown, but eventually rich and abundant season of life.  I think of the word Stay, spoken by a dear loved one who was near to death and wanted a companion in those last hours.  The words Positive and Negative in terms of health concerns have led me and those I love into uncharted territory full of abundant blessings and abrupt change.  I distinctly remember a word I spoke to someone, who, decades ago, chided me for a lack of faith and urged me to follow a rigid dogma that she was convinced would explain away my current problems.  No I said. That one word slid into others over the years, leading me towards many others such as Here or Welcome.  Words have guided me to places of deep Love and wide-open possibilities. I contemplate the words Now and Onward that have often turned me away from prevarication and towards resolve and decision.

In 2024, I am eschewing a list or a detailed and most likely unachievable set of resolutions.  I am not seeking to excuse the past, explain the present or circumscribe the future (as if I could do any of those things anyway).  I am emulating the little chickadee, showing up on a cold morning, choosing one morsel at a time, and savoring it for a while.  There will be a chance to choose another seed, another word, for both bird and human as the days unfold. One resolution rarely works for the entire year, and one word may not either. On this day in early January, I look upon one bird, eating one seed.  I choose one word to guide me as I move into the future. I could easily choose Hope, or Joy but these words don’t quite capture my Spirit’s need right now.  I think about the chirp of the chickadee, the flicker of its wings, and its determined return again and again to the source of sustenance.  I choose …

Steadfast

Choosing to be steadfast, in life, in faith, in optimism, will sometimes be easy; it will sometimes be incredibly hard, given personal challenges and worldly concerns.  That has always been true.  Choosing to be steadfast is a small morsel/moment of life, a small act, to be sure, but a necessary one for life to continue.  It is, also for a chickadee and its observer, the best way forward on this cold and cloudy day.

Could there be one word you choose today, or perhaps I should say a word that chooses you?  Treasure it; savor it; practice it; remember it; share it.  May One Word One Bird, be the treasure you carry into the days and months ahead.

Happy—no—Steadfast– 2024.

The steadfast love of God endures forever.

God’s mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning.

Great is God’s faithfulness. 

——Lamentations 3:22-23.

Chickadee photo by Patrice Bouchard a free download on Unsplash.com