I bird for many reasons, but perhaps I most love to watch these feathered friends teach me about we humans, and our narcissistic concept of uniquely created in the image of.
A muted day at Brazos Bend finds me watching and wondering the life view of this Swamp Sparrow. The Swamp Sparrow acts out a demonstration of my own repeating patterns of behavior.
Stilled by life, she seems to pause and contemplate her own reflection:
She turns her back and hides within her own world, hoping that her blinders, and the blinders of others, will mute her uniqueness within a forest of the many:
And then the Swamp Sparrow turns and watches the watcher:
When I turn, and see a friend come into view, the day is not so muted.