I sit at the kitchen table preparing to read the NY Times. I separate the front section from the rest of the paper, and then pause.
I get up, go to the fridge and grab the remains of yesterday’s leftovers.
I turn to the Opinion Pages, my first stop, and scan the titles. My eyes spot an essay by Margaret Renkl. I’m a fan-boy of Margarets. I see that her piece is titled “Spring is Coming“…well that’s a bit aggressive on January 5th, no Margaret?
I read on.
“There’s a New Year’s tradition among bird-watchers: The first bird you see on New Year’s Day is your theme bird for the year. Your spirit bird, the bird that sets the tone for your encounters with the world and with others, the bird that guides your heart and your imagination in the coming year. It’s hardly a serious ornithological exploration, but there are plenty of birders who will wake before dawn anyway, no matter how late they stayed up on New Year’s Eve. They will drive off to some wild place teeming with avian life, all to increase the sunrise odds of seeing a truly amazing first bird. Who wouldn’t love to be matched for a year to the spirit of the snowy owl? What a gift to be guided for 12 months by the soul of a Bohemian waxwing!”
I pause.
Yea, OK, it’s January 5th, it’s well beyond New Year’s Day but there’s no reason I can’t find my bird now. I need my spirit bird Now.
I stop nibbling on my sandwich. Get up. Step out the back door, watch, and listen.
Silence.
I wait a few moments longer, in my short sleeve t-shirt, in 38° F temperatures.
Nothing.
Perhaps some encouragement. Come on Red! Where’s that Red Cardinal? There are four bird feeders in the backyard. All hang on their poles silently. No breeze. They don’t swing. They are Still.
Nothing.
I step back into the house, pull the sliding door closed, and finish up Margaret’s essay.
No Bird. Wonder what that means.
I reach for the remaining quarter of my sandwich, and look down…
Chicken Sandwich…
What a gift to be guided for 12 months by the soul of a Bohemian waxwing!
Photo: Ostdrossel




