Night has slowly come to an end and I can hear the call of a bird slowly beckoning to other fellow birds that daylight is approaching. The sound gets louder and louder and becomes a medley of some sort. The sun is still resting. It’s almost as if the bird’s call is pushing the sun to wake up from slumber. The sun seems to want to stay in, but with the sound of the birds, slowly, slowly, slowly daylight begins to emerge. And as daylight and the greeting of the new day begins to dawn upon us, the birds almost seem elated with the chorus of sounds that occur all at once. There’s harmony, it does not sound annoying, in fact it’s almost a pleasant sound making me want to wake up to greet this new day.
The birds gather together on perches of trees, on branches of trees and begin to dance, sing and welcome the start of a new day. Every day is a new day to them. Every day comes with a sense of joy. Their songs are loud, they come with a tune. A tune that creeps into my head, and slowly moves into the rest of my body. The birds sing and greet each other with cheer. They flock together to connect and get ready for the day ahead. It’s a gathering of some sort, and a time to connect before going their separate ways as the day unfolds. Their existence is simple—it’s virtually a way of living in the now. The simple existence of being alive—of being able to wake up in the morning and treat each day as new.
It makes me think of us as humans: how often do we wake up each morning waiting to greet the new day? How often is morning greeted with a song? How often do we take time to connect with ourselves and our family in the morning before going our separate ways? If we listen to their song, we can learn so much from them. We can learn about joy without expectation, we can learn about stillness with ourselves, we can learn about community and connecting, we can learn about just being!
And when night comes and night befalls us, they flock together again. High atop a branch, high atop a roof, high high up in the sky heading home to rest. The sun has set, and night is slowly approaching. They’re calling out to each other—greeting each other, singing to each other, flocking to each other almost as if to be thankful for yet another day of living. I look out the window to see if I can spot one or two. It never ceases to amaze me as to how such a small being can produce such melodious sounds. I don’t see any birds, but I continue to hear them. Invisible, yet visible. Visible to the heart because it’s with the heart that one can learn to “BE.” And then it hit me—that’s what this call is—it’s a bird’s song—the call of the bird to wake us up, to wake up, to wake up from slumber!
Read more on this topic in BIRD WALK IN THE PARK: A mindfulness practice in nature>>
by Anjali Mani