Red wings, grey sky

I am still ailing, and spending a lot of time looking out the window because I feel too fuzzy to do much else, but... the rewards of this gazing are huge. I watch the sky change through the course of the day. I see birds, starlings and sparrows for the most part, picking the last fruits off the branches. Their feathers are puffed up for insulation and they all look like feather balls. If my cat happens to be sitting on the sill, he watches them quietly, motionless except for the twitching tip of his tail.

Yesterday and today a pair of cardinals has spent time on the branch closest to my window. He is extravagantly red, she more muted, together they are glorious. Watching them, I am altogether happy.
It's simple. Exuberantly extravagant beauty lands on the nearest branch. Pay attention. Consider the cardinals.

Comments

[kristin werner romell]

Laurel, I came here to find more of your music and was pleasantly sidetracked by your blog.

After my mother died, I started seeing a cardinal in my backyard. While that might not seem unusual, I've been feeding the backyard birds here for 14 years and the cardinals did not come to my yard. My neighbor's yards, yes, just not mine.

Anyway, I took comfort in the sight of those cardinals and thought often of how my mother was with me in spirit, although I missed her physical presence.

My father died last year (you knew him - Reverend Carl) and I started being visited by a pair of cardinals - a male and female and they often perched in a backyard tree and sang to me and I was at peace. Cardinals showed up in the brush by the parking lot when I got to work, they flitted past me when I went for a hike. Cardinals were everywhere, and usually turn up on just those days that I'm feeling sorry for myself. God is good! All the time!

Your music is a treat. I wish I lived close enough to NYC to see you perform. I get there for an occasional weekend, but not often enough.

Thanks for sharing your reflections.
Kristin

[RevJATB]

So sorry you are still not feeling well. Almost everyone in my house is sick too, except for me. And our eight-year-old, on top of everything else, has a broken arm. However, she has still managed (with her sister's help) to decorate not one, but two, gingerbread houses. So she, too, is finding joy in the everyday while homebound.

I'm so glad those cardinals have been there to bring joy to your day. Your story reminded me of my grandmother: every year she searched for Christmas cards to send that had cardinals on them. Every year, I could count on getting a card from her with a picture of a cardinal in the snow.

I know Christmas Eve at the Cathedral will be beautiful. Hope you are in good enough health to make it. But even if not, the story of Advent and Christmas is Emanu-El: God with us. And that means everywhere. Apartments in the city included.

[Charles Martin]

I think sometimes our bodies take measures to get us to slow down and mend. As miserable as "la grippe" is, it does force us to take the time to recoup . . . . Early this morning, as I was starting my day in the office, and in a bit of spleen, I heard the piercing "chip, chip!" of a cardinal (or "redbird" as my Louisiana momma would call it), who was perched on a snow-covered branch outside my window. Had one painted this scene, no one would believe its striking beauty. I thought immediately of your post and had to share. Be well.