And so I quietly watch the watchable. And I’m drawn to my feathered friends. Busyness is in their nature. If you tell someone they eat like a bird, you are pretty much saying they are constantly focused on seeking, finding and eating.What I find is an incredible sense of peace when I watch these feathered beings go about their day in the life. I encounter a personal healing with my watchfulness when I stop chasing the “rare” and focus on the “common” of the local field or wood.
And when my viewing catches the ordinary locals, in an extraordinary moment of their own quiet watching, I am overcome by their beauty. I realize my intrusion into their own world’s version of solitude, as they turn and watch the watcher. I quietly back away, hoping to leave them to their stilled watch.
This female Downy Woodpecker was in a period of watchful rest after busily feeding, drumming and calling:
The elegance of this Anhinga, quietly turning to watch my own stationary pose, spoke volumes:
And how often do birders ignore the beauty of the “common” Northern Cardinal? I stood silent and watched this grand male look out over the kingdom before him. And then he slowly turned his head to watch this watcher:
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May all your days be birdy days.