Yellow bird tells a tale
The Tale of a Yellow Bird
A Feathered Friend Alights
Two days ago my Papa, who is 85, told me a story about an intimate encounter he had with a beautiful yellow bird.
My Papa, who as I said is only 85, is still brazenly knee deep in gardening shenanigans. The enduring facts are this: my Papa was a busy man his whole life long. Owned successful businesses, farmed extensively and took pride in how his empire was built, which is to say, sweat equity was paramount. So to say he had been busy that day, in relative terms would imply that he was doing as much as he could as a man of 85 who was still managing to function incredibly well for his age and circumstances. And so there he had been tending to his spruce tree nursery and pruning raspberry canes and who know what else. Pacemaker and blood-thinners notwithstanding, he was worn out that day at that juncture. He decided to take leave of his regime and sit down and drink some water. Slowly he scuffled across the yard making his way to his chair on the porch. As he finally sat resting he suddenly felt that he was not alone. Next to him was a gigantic, yellow begonia which my mother had recently potted up and placed in a shady spot. A second glance of the begonia confirmed that upon one of its glorious blooms, there was someone, a fantastic yellow finch had landed and was in a tranquil trance. It was stunning! and perfectly camouflaged by by the flora.
Papa concentrated on remaining utterly still as the splendid, yellow finch was only inches away. It looked about quizzically. It was apparently oblivious to my Papa’s presence. My Papa sat transfixed, captivated by his exotic visitor. Neither the bird nor the elderly man made a stir. The encounter stretched into a frozen, expansive moment. Papa sat calmly enthralled, encompassed in serenity, savoring this sublime poignant experience.
The bird was so wonderfully brilliant! It made an impressive departure from his recent toil through the saturated garden, from the previous weeks and days of relentless downpour. He had struggled with his cane in the mud and swarms of mosquitoes had pestered him and finally had driven him out of the garden. He was exhausted. He needed to sit down and change his shoes and that was how he came to be sitting next to the finch on the begonia, on the porch. What magnificence ! He derived an unexpected peacefulness from this seemingly small moment. Utter tranquility seemed to radiate from his face as he recounted the phenomenon to me.
My thoughts immediately turned to an earlier time that same spring. I’d had a similar encounter as I was bustling about my garden, transplanting a Hosta at the foot of my Nanking Cherry tree. I had suddenly stood upright and there beside me, at eye level, on a pallid, rosy, frothy branch, a sweet little chickadee was perched and sweetly winking at me. I froze and dared not make stir. It was an intriguing, brief exchange. The Chickadee tilted it head, nodded its approval to me, and then was gone. I remember I remained standing there, motionless but a colossal smile was plastered on my face for quite some time until I suddenly simply laughed out loud. Instantly the word had become uncomplicated again. I promptly stashed it into my treasure chest of best experiences.
We need to stop and really see what is around us. Stop what we’re obsessed with accomplishing and observe then see then feel.
This blog offers a glimpse into at elegant, peaceful living between the hustle bustle of everyday life.
Sanity is living in the moment. “Act upon” your whimsies and your hearts desire(s). I implore you to work with your own unique pulse. March to the beat of you heart’s complex rhythm. Let no steal what is yours and yours alone – your thoughts and daydreams, your ideas and plans are owned by you! Set them free and see where they end up.
You have the receptors of a bumble bee and astute vision of an eagle.
Soar high my friends and capture the elegance of the here and now!
My Papa, Karl and his brother, Herman, my Onkel, here on visit from Germany in 1995