Good morning friends! The audio is a recording of the following story so please read or listen as suits you best.
On a chilly spring morning, a horned grebe swims nearby, all alone. As the sun rises he starts to make a sound that to my ears sounds like an anxious, plaintive prayer. A sound of longing and looking for the comfort of his tribe. I feel this longing in my heart. I try to speak back to him, softly, hoping somehow he will feel less alone. You and I little one, we are here together.
Birds often call at sunrise, that time of moving into the world, engaging with all that is around you. Is that time unsettling for birds too? Do they carry doubts and fears with them, wondering if they will find belonging and acceptance in this day? Do they feel lost the way I sometimes do when I have traveled far from my heart’s home? Do they too have moments of forgetting and remembering as they open their eyes? Feeling their feet or feathers on the earth and needing a moment to remember where they are.
The wind picks up and I see a cloud of gray moving my way. High in the sky, over the center of the lake, dancing like the Aurora Borealis. The cloud approaches and I recognize a flock of small birds. My heart sings out, “please come down and see me”, and I may have said it out loud. I watch the swirl descend and see the shimmering green and blue wings and fluffy white bellies of tree swallows. The firsts of spring make my heart soar and I am smiling from ear to ear as they fly around me.
The swallows move individually and as one. They circle around, higher, lower, then higher again. They briefly land in a nearby tree then take off again and disappear into the bright sky. I wonder if they are gone. A few minutes later they come back, somehow having gone over my head and flying towards me again, into the wind using it to hover just a little.
It’s magical to watch them repeat this dance over and over. Each time coming close then moving away. Appearing, disappearing, swirling, dancing, swooping, cooperating and chasing each other until they eventually move on. A beautiful example of community and belonging. Each one a part of the tribe, a part of the dance. Carrying their place in the world with them as they make their long migration.
We dance too, though perhaps it is not so obvious and so often we can feel like we are dancing alone. Our hearts dance with other hearts hoping to be seen, hoping to be loved, hoping to belong, hoping to make a difference. Our joy and sorrows swirl together, forming their own dancing clouds. You and I, the grebes and the swallows, at our best we make a dance of beauty out of the joy and sorrow of life. Perhaps we just need that moment of remembering.
My sweet little horned grebe friend and his plaintive cry:
Spring is really picking up now! Trees have budded, little purple flowers cover the fields and birds are migrating in larger numbers.
The birds waste no time getting to the business of making babies. These geese flew in, landed right in front of me and started doing this sweet little mating dance so I flipped the video on - let’s just say they are not camera shy.
Mama goose then proceeded to build herself a nest on one of the nearby boats. I thought she’d get run out by the marina staff, but a week later she’s still there. Papa goose patrols the marina and makes sure nothing and no one goes close to mama goose. He does not allow ANY other geese to land in the vicinity. He’s a very protective dad. I’m hoping their babies make it.
Lots of beautiful blue herons too, establishing their territory and being very gracious to the photographer.
Lots of flickers moving through and I was delighted to capture the flash of yellow under those wings.
Last week I wrote about the osprey, but I hadn’t processed all the photos yet. Look how long that wing is when she stretches it out!
Thanks for reading, wishing you all a week of finding the comfort of your tribe.
Finding Our Tribe