What the Chickadee Told me

I have gotten this strange but oddly satisfying notion in my head that every once in a while a certain creature comes into my life in order to teach me something important. For lack of a better term I have been calling it my spirit animal and I have only really had a few. For the last few years my spirit animal has been the crow. An intelligent, strong and resilient animal. I admire them immensely and will always have a special place in my heart for them.

I don’t choose my spirit animal. Fate, mother nature, my own craziness or whatever chooses for me. and it takes a long time for me to be certain on the right one, and the timing must be right; the moment must be ready for a lesson.

And so keeping that in mind let me set the stage. we have been providing a few nuts and seeds to some of the urban wildlife that come to visit us in the wilds of our apartment “backyard”. We live on the edge of an urban wildlife corridor of sorts and we have gotten many visitors, mostly squirrels and birds, some raccoons, a little lame rat that I can’t bring myself to hate and the odd deer or two and even a hawk once.

Our little buddies are quite friendly and amuse us with their antics and honor us with their wild friendship.

One day came the tiny chickadee, it didn’t want nuts or seeds. It just flew in and tried to find a place to land. It fluttered around a bit before settling on a iron trellis located in a bright blue pot, from there surrounded by white jasmine blossoms it sang to me for what seemed like long time, probably only a minute or two, before it flew back into the trees. I was delighted to receive such a visit and so when I received a few more from this a very vocal bird who seemed desperate to want to tell me something, I knew that I must listen carefully and so after the fourth or fifth visit I finally started to get it. An image formed in my mind and I knew exactly what to do . I filled fresh water in the one container we had out and then I got two more, including a little one I placed near the bushes for the little birds who may feel safer there. I went back inside and closed the screen door. I was immediately rewarded by the little chickadee. It flew down and began to drink. Then came two others who joined the party, drinking at their own separate dishes. Afterward and since I have noticed the water being greatly appreciated by many more animals than we imagined.

A part of the creek where we live has been dammed up by the homeless people who have camped back in the brush and blackberry brambles behind our apartment. They have been polluting the water with trash and the area around it. This has been a water source for many animals including the deer who pass through the area seasonally.

There is not much we can do. We have reported the camp and so have some of our neighbors but the situation as of now remains as it is. Local officials are wary of breaking up camps due to Covid.

And so we keep our water dishes filled.

We do what we can with our little bits of good. The chickadee did have something valid to tell me and I have learned to listen to such messages.

So do I think the chickadee is my latest spirit animal?

I don’t know at this time but I do know I have much to learn. And why not have an open mind and listen?

-Nancy

Squirrel, top right and Chickadee, bottom left.

The Voice of the Universe

The voice of the universe is everywhere.
In the trees. In stars. In the air.
In my heart. In my hair.
Within.”

—Jonna Jinton

I listen to the wind move through the trees tickling leaves along the way. I hear the loneliness in them, the smallness of them. The universe is made of these. Bits and parts of somethings that make a whole.

We are one together. A breathing being is the universe. I witness its breath in the clouds. I feel the beat of it’s heart in the river. I touch its profoundness in the soft moss under my feet.

I feel so alive in this one very moment; I take in the million joys that spill over like a wave. It fills my valleys and makes them green again.

The voice of the universe speaks to me. Not in words but pure emotion. It speaks to me in brilliant birdsong and in the roar of the sea. It whispers in the Sunday breeze, knocking down fence posts to make me listen.

Once in a while the universe sends something so absolutely exquisite I can’t help but pause in splendid wonder. Once in a while can be everyday if I let it…

~nlm

Listen

Silence is rich. It is dark and viscous and it flows on waves of nothingness. Silence begs to be filled and filled it must be. It is lonely and demanding and chill to the touch but it tastes smooth like the breeze. Silence is an opulent black pearl and one of the rarest gems on Earth.

There is a simple profoundness that can be found in the absence of sound. The emptiness that silence provides often gives rise to thought–the deep kind. The sort that give birth to leaps of logic and flights of the imagination. Silence is the canvas on which beautiful art can be created. It sits and waits patiently.

Silence isn’t in a hurry. It doesn’t need to explain itself or impress anyone or anything. It just is. It is the essence of cool.

I love silence. I crave it even. It is sorely needed in this noisy world that we have created. Life passes far too quickly for proper reflection but the quiet gives our minds time to relax and reflect.

Of course there is no true silence, even in nature far away from the influence of man, there is sound. And it is these sounds in the silence that I take time out to explore.

Being a city dweller, the sounds I pick up are a mix of city hum and the song of nature. I have learned to appreciate the sounds I hear for what they are. Which I would have to say mostly traffic and birds…well let’s just say I try to focus on the birds and not the traffic so much.

I will often go into the backyard, especially on days when I can find the smallest sliver of sunshine. I will sit in the golden light and close my eyes and listen. Listen to each and every individual sound I can possibly hear.

This is not only relaxing, it is mind expanding. It is as if I am floating…

Each day is different. Today it is the caws of crows. They fly from treetop to treetop calling to each other. I can hear one and then another and soon a chorus rings out. The sound comes from high in the sky in all directions. The atmosphere is alive and quick and I can feel their energy in my spirit and the warmth of the still-warm late October sun on my happy face.

Someday I will escape the city if only for a day and I will go to a random field or an empty beach or a hilltop among a grove of trees and listen and take it all in, keeping it with me always.

For today though, the caws of crows do quite nicely.