Something to share, to reflect on, is this beautiful post from our blog-friend, from the other side of the world, where it is winter, it is cold and seemingly melancholy…
Except that “…there is joy hopping among the empty limbs of the massive winter sentinels of the yard–a busyness of energy remains, all is not dormant nor still–as witnessed by a small bundle of blue grey and white feathers. ” And in all things, God lives and loves, even in the silence and smallness of a moment.
“In order to see birds it is necessary to become a part of the silence.”
The leaves are long gone. The yard barren of color and seemingly void of any life or activity. As I canvas what was, only thinking and hoping of what will be, I am startled by a slight movement along the limbs of a lone stately oak tree.
Upon further inspection I spy a lone little nuthatch. A most spry and hardy little bird.
As I pull my coat a bit tighter, to ward off the blowing January wind, I am mesmerized watching this small bundle of blue grey and white energy hopping up and down the limbs of the stately oak.
Out of all the vast array of birds which call my yard home or hotel…
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