Free as a Bird

Early this morning I poured my first cup of coffee and stepped outside to greet the day. As I sat on my stoop and sipped my coffee, I started watching the Spring birds. It's the end of April in Virginia and the song birds are busy this time of year. The morning air is full of song, and the sky and trees are full of birds.

Birds live a simple life, as do most creatures of our planet. They eat what the circle of life provides. They drink what falls from the sky. When it's warm, they sit in the sunshine. When it's cold or rainy they seek shelter wherever they can find it. Their social order is as simple as a song. They declare their territory and connect with mates and please nearby humans all with a warble and a caw. And they are free to fly as high as they like, but inexplicably to me, they rarely do.

I used to think about birds a lot, envying their simple ways, and thinking about how they and the other life forms of our planet are so tightly knit into a web of life, while us human remain so removed. Of course we humans still have plenty of advantages like clean and safe housing with automatic temperature control and Internet connections. Plenty of safe food and clean water. And health care and airline transportation and televisions. Things like that. So maybe birds secretly admire our way of life. But I would still trade several of my days in a corporate cubicle for just one day of living as a bird does. And indeed, in some small ways, I've made some of those trades.

Early this morning, I watched the birds and pondered, and having finished my coffee, I went back into my canvas nest and got ready for my corporate job.