The bird feeder that I have suctioned to the outside of my office window has become a Holiday Inn for many feathered flirts this summer. The clear plastic house has been around long enough for at least two migrations, and I’ve noticed that we are beginning to have seasonal regulars.
Last year, a pigeon on the fly came around for a while, parked along the brick sill at times; tried to eat at the fly by feedery other times. He was bigger than most, but became a friend to us all. I thought he may stick around, but something bigger than life called him away, and I haven’t seen him in a year now.
This year the most frequent flyer award goes to an oversized and very bald headed cardinal. It’s a bird! It’s a plane!! NO!!! It’s a mow-topped cardinal approaching the feeder these days. He is not the most attractive sort on the outside, which only leads me to believe that he is an angel at heart.
His beak (glow in the dark red )would fit a small parrot, and sometimes I wonder if he has signed the necessary papers to be a beak donor. Although his feathers and fluff are oversized and brilliantly fluffy, it is clear his outward appearance is misleading. He has some distinct self-esteem issues, as he is a shy flyer. He waits in the trees outside the alley that houses my bird sanctuary, until lunch rush passes, then he zips in for his fill. I can hear him crunching through the window when he is consuming the feed. He munches and then looks around every few seconds, to be sure he’s still alone- there must be comfort in solitary consumption…. My own Mr. Elephant Man Bird. Sounds like a case for the Pastor, but his time is stretched pretty thin between God helping him,and he helping the human congregants, so I hesitate to ask him to pray with my little red friend, but no doubt, time spent with our worldly Pastor would do anyone good.
So instead, the membership secretary and myself have adopted him. She noticed his impressive physical attributes way before me. I keep a mirror on top of my monitor, so that I can see the birds as they fly in behind me at the window, but usually, any movement on my part will send them away, so the first few times she gasped in amazement, I missed the show. Now, of course, he’s a regular and I can hear him flying in and crunching at the bird deli.
We have enlightened others about him, and over time he has moved from being an object of curiosity for us, to a sought after wonder. Clearly, he has overcome many obstacles, and has succumbed to some trying times. We wish we knew his history. Where is he from? Who broke his heart? Who mowed his head? Who is his family? Where are they now? Where is he headed?
It is instances such as this where nature parallels faith. We see the beauty, we recognize the challenges , we wonder wonder wonder wonder about all the rest, but he keeps coming back, offering us opportunities to know him better. We’ve formed a community who supports him, and we hope that his bird friends will one day do the same.
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Spider man birds
The birdfeeder that is suctioned to my office window is a popular hangout for feathered travelers this season. Although it took a long time to draw the flying friends into the lair, the word is out now around town that The church chick has seeds, baby.
The pigeon finally went back home again, or at least he headed out of town, but he has been replaced by a couple of fluffy thugs who fly in several times a day to eat their fill. The younger and smaller creatures have adapted well to the bully birds. They have become spiderman birds as they have learned to scale the brick wall that backs the alley where my office is.
When I look through the window I see the birdfeeder, and just past the feeder lies the lovely red brick wall backdrop. I don’t mind the harsh brick canvas, but sometimes I imagine how it would look to paint a landscape on it or a seasonal scene. I think it would be fun to put a cut-out of a vintage Philips 66 gas station man with his hat on waving at passers by.
People walking by in the hallway could have a brief encounter with the beach or the mountains, along with the birds. Lots of possibilities there. serendipitous ideas, thoughts that pass by from time to time in between baptisms and funerals here at Church Chick work camp.
One day, the bully birds, Bret and Horace, were playfighting during their mid morning snack. A group of small neat winged brown friends headed over for a beak full, but when they rounded the corner into the alley They were greeted by a throw of sunflower shells and they hit an invisible force field or something because they put the brakes on and slammed into the brick alley wall- little tiny bird feet first.
They clung to the wall for several minutes, dazed and confused. Every few seconds, one or another would look around to see if the big boys were still at the trough- Soon as the big birds left, the littles flew over and ate.
Now, this pattern of behavior has become routine. Daily, the cafeteria line starts on the brick. Visitors who venture into the office and sit in my round cozy chair are surprised by this phenomenon. Maybe the birds think the brick is just a very wide and coarse tree. Or maybe they are really a troop of acrobat birds and I’ll make my fortune by charging a fee to watch the show. Or maybe they just had a close call one day, and they learned how to scale brick while waiting for lunch. Either way, the alley is becoming a most entertaining spot to watch.
The pigeon finally went back home again, or at least he headed out of town, but he has been replaced by a couple of fluffy thugs who fly in several times a day to eat their fill. The younger and smaller creatures have adapted well to the bully birds. They have become spiderman birds as they have learned to scale the brick wall that backs the alley where my office is.
When I look through the window I see the birdfeeder, and just past the feeder lies the lovely red brick wall backdrop. I don’t mind the harsh brick canvas, but sometimes I imagine how it would look to paint a landscape on it or a seasonal scene. I think it would be fun to put a cut-out of a vintage Philips 66 gas station man with his hat on waving at passers by.
People walking by in the hallway could have a brief encounter with the beach or the mountains, along with the birds. Lots of possibilities there. serendipitous ideas, thoughts that pass by from time to time in between baptisms and funerals here at Church Chick work camp.
One day, the bully birds, Bret and Horace, were playfighting during their mid morning snack. A group of small neat winged brown friends headed over for a beak full, but when they rounded the corner into the alley They were greeted by a throw of sunflower shells and they hit an invisible force field or something because they put the brakes on and slammed into the brick alley wall- little tiny bird feet first.
They clung to the wall for several minutes, dazed and confused. Every few seconds, one or another would look around to see if the big boys were still at the trough- Soon as the big birds left, the littles flew over and ate.
Now, this pattern of behavior has become routine. Daily, the cafeteria line starts on the brick. Visitors who venture into the office and sit in my round cozy chair are surprised by this phenomenon. Maybe the birds think the brick is just a very wide and coarse tree. Or maybe they are really a troop of acrobat birds and I’ll make my fortune by charging a fee to watch the show. Or maybe they just had a close call one day, and they learned how to scale brick while waiting for lunch. Either way, the alley is becoming a most entertaining spot to watch.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Pigeon-holed
My bird feeder ministry is growing in wings and beaks these days.
Outcast and runaway fledglings who frequent my office window/ safe haven-for- aerial types have started to spread the word around town that the church lady's soup kitchen now offers daily lunch specials.
The variety of visitors has picked up. In an effort to economically accomodate the growing fly- through traffic I've added multi-grain cheerios to the feeder mix, as well as a delectable three seed combo selection for my birdfriends to snack on.
Delicate brown and tan wrens, puffy black chested birds and cardinals are the regulars. Nameless breeds of other small bodied chirpers coast through daily. There's also a wicked witch of the west Hawk who parks his talons in a nearby balcony tree. I think he's too big to land and stand on the sill. There's a frightful whisper inside me that says he prefers smaller winged creatures and four legged scampering sorts to seeds anyway.
Today, we stretched our welcoming arms to a new feathered friend. Gulliver in stature and donning flourescent neckware, our new friend is a very overpuffed pigeon. I call him Pepe. He reminds me of Pepe le Pew, a mischievious romantic rascal of a cartoon skunk from TV. The burley pigeon releases a continuing string of charismatic coos that echo off the brick walls in the alley outside my window.Pepe has a lovely array of irredescent colors mixed into his neck feathers, and his facial features are distinct as well. I would say he is NOT a candidate for a Birdland last resort makeover show.
Pepe sought me out during a recent staff meeting by sitting- one floor up from my office bird oasis -upon the windowsill beside our meeting room. He sat like a sad puppy for the longest time just looking in at the lot of us as we worked our way through the weekly chaos of staff meeting.
Patiently, he sat/ she sat in wait. When our meeting dissolved into talk of a lunch break, she flew down to the birdfeeder and parked in the flower pot-turned-secondary feeder. She was so big, that the pot was lost underneath her. She could not figure out how to stand along the side and nibble at the seeds. The pot tilted when she tried to perch and peck. I could tell she was discouraged. Such a big kid in the midst of so many lilliputian flyers has to feel awkward.
I decided it was time to expand the chow lounge. I wanted to offer our new friend a comfortable place to snack, one more fitting with her luxurious size so I sprinkled a few grains along the brick sill on either side of the feeder.
It seemed like Pepe was in need of friends, and a place to hang out. I didn't want her size to deter the smaller patrons from coming. Freeing up the feeding trough brought back the daily customers; we'll see if Pepe settles in. If and when he/she does,we'll see about what we can do to keep building a nurturing mini-community around him/her at the Church Lady Cafeteria.
Meeting Pepe reminds me that community is important for all creatures. I'm lucky to have a very safe haven at my home church and a cozy place within my work church.I'd like to see that happen all around. Consider looking for subtle signs of connection in your world the "nest" time you're out and about. Clusters of birds in the trees, conversations among interested office mates who have come to gather around the office at "feeding time", trees that sway in unison , their leaves waving at a small line of cumulus billowing by overhead, a feathered flock of mystery birds floating by in the autumn wind. It's all community in different shapes and places. and it's all important for helping us to grow together.
Outcast and runaway fledglings who frequent my office window/ safe haven-for- aerial types have started to spread the word around town that the church lady's soup kitchen now offers daily lunch specials.
The variety of visitors has picked up. In an effort to economically accomodate the growing fly- through traffic I've added multi-grain cheerios to the feeder mix, as well as a delectable three seed combo selection for my birdfriends to snack on.
Delicate brown and tan wrens, puffy black chested birds and cardinals are the regulars. Nameless breeds of other small bodied chirpers coast through daily. There's also a wicked witch of the west Hawk who parks his talons in a nearby balcony tree. I think he's too big to land and stand on the sill. There's a frightful whisper inside me that says he prefers smaller winged creatures and four legged scampering sorts to seeds anyway.
Today, we stretched our welcoming arms to a new feathered friend. Gulliver in stature and donning flourescent neckware, our new friend is a very overpuffed pigeon. I call him Pepe. He reminds me of Pepe le Pew, a mischievious romantic rascal of a cartoon skunk from TV. The burley pigeon releases a continuing string of charismatic coos that echo off the brick walls in the alley outside my window.Pepe has a lovely array of irredescent colors mixed into his neck feathers, and his facial features are distinct as well. I would say he is NOT a candidate for a Birdland last resort makeover show.
Pepe sought me out during a recent staff meeting by sitting- one floor up from my office bird oasis -upon the windowsill beside our meeting room. He sat like a sad puppy for the longest time just looking in at the lot of us as we worked our way through the weekly chaos of staff meeting.
Patiently, he sat/ she sat in wait. When our meeting dissolved into talk of a lunch break, she flew down to the birdfeeder and parked in the flower pot-turned-secondary feeder. She was so big, that the pot was lost underneath her. She could not figure out how to stand along the side and nibble at the seeds. The pot tilted when she tried to perch and peck. I could tell she was discouraged. Such a big kid in the midst of so many lilliputian flyers has to feel awkward.
I decided it was time to expand the chow lounge. I wanted to offer our new friend a comfortable place to snack, one more fitting with her luxurious size so I sprinkled a few grains along the brick sill on either side of the feeder.
It seemed like Pepe was in need of friends, and a place to hang out. I didn't want her size to deter the smaller patrons from coming. Freeing up the feeding trough brought back the daily customers; we'll see if Pepe settles in. If and when he/she does,we'll see about what we can do to keep building a nurturing mini-community around him/her at the Church Lady Cafeteria.
Meeting Pepe reminds me that community is important for all creatures. I'm lucky to have a very safe haven at my home church and a cozy place within my work church.I'd like to see that happen all around. Consider looking for subtle signs of connection in your world the "nest" time you're out and about. Clusters of birds in the trees, conversations among interested office mates who have come to gather around the office at "feeding time", trees that sway in unison , their leaves waving at a small line of cumulus billowing by overhead, a feathered flock of mystery birds floating by in the autumn wind. It's all community in different shapes and places. and it's all important for helping us to grow together.
Monday, September 19, 2005
The narcoleptic wren
The bird feeder that I keep suctioned onto the outside of my office window has finally made the headlines - The Critter Chatter News. I hear the birds talk about it every morning when they fly in and out on their way to work and such.
It took a good 4 or 5 months for the birds to first, notice the birdfeeder and food, and then another few weeks to realize it wasn't a mirage and to learn how not to dive bomb into the glass for a good meal.
I used to keep a flower pot underneath the bird feeder with various ever-changing plants in it, but the only thing that grew consistently and successfully were the sunflower seeds that sprouted after they had been kicked,spit or pushed out of the feeder. The pot became a catch all for seed crumbs.
Last week, my friend Amelia, who is extremely gentle natured, noticed that there was a bird laying in the feeder. She sat across from me and said, "Is he asleep?" I checked my rear-view mirror that I keep propped on top of my computer monitor so that I can see the daily activity and saw what she was talking about, but I thought the bird was not just taking a benign birdnap, I thought he had maybe had a heartattack from eating too many sunflower seeds.
I figured his cholesterol was running high and he just bit the dust. We approached gently, and then my panic made me push open the window and scoot my fingers his way. The sleeping beauty awoke, and without the kiss, remained a bird. A flustered little thing, he flew off in a panic.
Today, during staff meeting, I ventured to the hall way window one floor up from my office and I looked down to see if any little feathered friends were having brunch in the neighborhood cafe and sure enough, there was my little sleeper, napping once again. This time, he was sitting up and nodding off, as if he had been sitting in an easy chair and had fallen asleep watching the game. The only game going on right then was a few rowdy blackbirds swooping about. By the time staff meeting was over, he was off , reenergized from the rest stop I figured.
Later this afternoon, he dive bombed into the pot of overflow seeds and stayed there a good hour with his face in the seed-soil, and his tail feathers poking out and over the rim of the pot. Was it a suicide attempt? Intentional seed collision? Do birds get depressed? or were his brakes out of order, was he trying to save face by looking like he meant to hit the overflow flower pot instead of the well stocked feeder just over head? Was he drunk? Did he pass out from over drinking the polluted run off from the night's rain? Had he been sipping the organic fertilizer the landscape crew leaves in the bushes?
His breathing was regular albeit rapid, but what would you expect? He had to fly high to reach that cozy spot. Manuvering into the brick alley outside my office is no easy fly by, let me tell you. Amelia opened the window and stroked his feathers. He didn't seem to mind.
Another friend came by as well ,and was facinated by the lounging bird. He spritzed my covey of plants and considered the bird's odd positioning. "Is he praying" he asked? Being outside the office of a church secretary, I found this question completely understandable. " Is it Yoga?" We looked at him more closely. " Could be downward facing dog, I guess"
"Wait, no, his butt isn't up high enough and his hams aren't stretched" " hams? Do birds have those?" We kept postulating and presuming and guessing.
I ventured into the Pastor's office and asked him to please come to my office. He obliged me, probably thinking I was going to get on my high horse about some this or that, He came reluctantly, but he came. I like that in a Pastor. Tip toe trust. He entered the office/birdlounge and looked at our sleeping friend. Immediately, he connected with the gentleness the bird's aura presented. "He looks so comfy" He was touched, I could tell. It was a nice group-hug moment.
Things have been so hard rock 'n rolling at work that I thanked the bird for giving us that reason to pause. The Pastor quietly left and went back to his Pastoring. That's the number one job of Pastors, you know. Pastoring. It comes in lots of shapes and flavors, but I've come to recognize it just the same. Important work, performed to perfection with honest humilty and tender awareness. Qualities not many have, and qualities that so many wish they had. My boss and my home church Pastors are woven through and through with those qualities.
Later in the day, when the record was playing at 78 rpms again, I thought back to the sleeping wren.The moment made me feel pretty special.I mean, the Pastors provide an environment of love and comfort for people. All kinds of folks. and in this church, my work church, the church chick's office offers the same for other types of folk. Feathered friends, bugs, and narcoleptic birds. Well, it's a start anyway. Maybe one day, one day, my office will be a safe haven for creatures of other kinds, who knows?
It took a good 4 or 5 months for the birds to first, notice the birdfeeder and food, and then another few weeks to realize it wasn't a mirage and to learn how not to dive bomb into the glass for a good meal.
I used to keep a flower pot underneath the bird feeder with various ever-changing plants in it, but the only thing that grew consistently and successfully were the sunflower seeds that sprouted after they had been kicked,spit or pushed out of the feeder. The pot became a catch all for seed crumbs.
Last week, my friend Amelia, who is extremely gentle natured, noticed that there was a bird laying in the feeder. She sat across from me and said, "Is he asleep?" I checked my rear-view mirror that I keep propped on top of my computer monitor so that I can see the daily activity and saw what she was talking about, but I thought the bird was not just taking a benign birdnap, I thought he had maybe had a heartattack from eating too many sunflower seeds.
I figured his cholesterol was running high and he just bit the dust. We approached gently, and then my panic made me push open the window and scoot my fingers his way. The sleeping beauty awoke, and without the kiss, remained a bird. A flustered little thing, he flew off in a panic.
Today, during staff meeting, I ventured to the hall way window one floor up from my office and I looked down to see if any little feathered friends were having brunch in the neighborhood cafe and sure enough, there was my little sleeper, napping once again. This time, he was sitting up and nodding off, as if he had been sitting in an easy chair and had fallen asleep watching the game. The only game going on right then was a few rowdy blackbirds swooping about. By the time staff meeting was over, he was off , reenergized from the rest stop I figured.
Later this afternoon, he dive bombed into the pot of overflow seeds and stayed there a good hour with his face in the seed-soil, and his tail feathers poking out and over the rim of the pot. Was it a suicide attempt? Intentional seed collision? Do birds get depressed? or were his brakes out of order, was he trying to save face by looking like he meant to hit the overflow flower pot instead of the well stocked feeder just over head? Was he drunk? Did he pass out from over drinking the polluted run off from the night's rain? Had he been sipping the organic fertilizer the landscape crew leaves in the bushes?
His breathing was regular albeit rapid, but what would you expect? He had to fly high to reach that cozy spot. Manuvering into the brick alley outside my office is no easy fly by, let me tell you. Amelia opened the window and stroked his feathers. He didn't seem to mind.
Another friend came by as well ,and was facinated by the lounging bird. He spritzed my covey of plants and considered the bird's odd positioning. "Is he praying" he asked? Being outside the office of a church secretary, I found this question completely understandable. " Is it Yoga?" We looked at him more closely. " Could be downward facing dog, I guess"
"Wait, no, his butt isn't up high enough and his hams aren't stretched" " hams? Do birds have those?" We kept postulating and presuming and guessing.
I ventured into the Pastor's office and asked him to please come to my office. He obliged me, probably thinking I was going to get on my high horse about some this or that, He came reluctantly, but he came. I like that in a Pastor. Tip toe trust. He entered the office/birdlounge and looked at our sleeping friend. Immediately, he connected with the gentleness the bird's aura presented. "He looks so comfy" He was touched, I could tell. It was a nice group-hug moment.
Things have been so hard rock 'n rolling at work that I thanked the bird for giving us that reason to pause. The Pastor quietly left and went back to his Pastoring. That's the number one job of Pastors, you know. Pastoring. It comes in lots of shapes and flavors, but I've come to recognize it just the same. Important work, performed to perfection with honest humilty and tender awareness. Qualities not many have, and qualities that so many wish they had. My boss and my home church Pastors are woven through and through with those qualities.
Later in the day, when the record was playing at 78 rpms again, I thought back to the sleeping wren.The moment made me feel pretty special.I mean, the Pastors provide an environment of love and comfort for people. All kinds of folks. and in this church, my work church, the church chick's office offers the same for other types of folk. Feathered friends, bugs, and narcoleptic birds. Well, it's a start anyway. Maybe one day, one day, my office will be a safe haven for creatures of other kinds, who knows?
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