I heard birds singing this morning; several of them really. But one was aggressive—louder, sharper, more persistent than all the others, as if declaring, “You are going to hear me if you don't hear anything else.” A mocking bird with that same attitude lived in a tree right outside my bedroom window during my late childhood and early youth.
Sadly, I seldom hear birds singing these days. I don’t know that I have ever heard a bird singing in Washington, D.C. There I hear sirens, honking horns, shrill arguments, breaking news, partisan prejudice, and low-flying aircraft. New York is much the same when it comes to sounds, though there, street musicians play the role of birds and penetrate the cacophony of unsettling noises with the twang of a guitar, the melody of a saxophone, the welcome pulsations of diverse drums, the rolling reverberations of a xylophone, and sometimes even a solo offered with a beauty that can stop traffic otherwise unaffected even by red lights and cross walks.
Since my days tend to be filled with a variety of sounds, often in my car or in my condominium, I sit quietly and drink up silence like a sponge thrown into a puddle of spilled water. But I also long for music—all kinds actually—music that gives expression to my emotions, massages my needs, and strengthens my devotion to live out dreams.
I am thankful I heard birds singing this morning. At least for today, whatever other sounds I hear will be interspersed with echoes of the music of birds.
And, of course, there is no music like that made by birds. No wonder, they can fly!
Prayer
O God, from creation we derive personal gratification. In creation we find beautification for all of life. For creation, we offer affirmation. Sensitize us to the glory around us so that we will not experience even the briefest moment of drabness when there is beauty to be seen and music to be heard. Amen
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