Parable of Sparrow

It's taken forty four years for the universe to teach me that if I am very still and keep my eyes, ears and heart open, it will reveal to me profound truths--living parables--that I could never read or imagine. I'm almost afraid to write it for lack of words and inadequate tools for conveying feeling and meaning.

Dee and I took our chairs and our books to the front porch this afternoon because we are experiencing a rare cool July day. We hardly noticed the gathering clouds overhead and the boding storm that was causing the cool breeze which invited us so convincingly. Eventually, we gathered a simple meal rather than heat the house further and continued our enjoyment of the outdoors.

As we were reading, eating crackers and fresh chevre, and occassionally conversing, I began to notice that the clouds were casting dark shadows and that a buckeye tree about three houses down began to accummulate a good number of birds. The chirping of those birds grew louder and more and more incessant and that chirping seemed to draw more and more birds to the tree--sometimes only three or four at a time, often ten or twelve. They came and they came and I began to wonder how many birds one buckeye tree could hold.

I finally broke the silence, "Those birds in the tree are calling to others to come join them in the safety of the tree from the storm."

Dee smiled at me and said, "Oh, so now you understand bird-talk."

"I'm serious," I said. "I'm certain that's what's happening. Isn't it interesting how nature does that--operates in perfect harmony and communication--at least with this community of birds?"

I stopped a moment and watched as one bird exited the tree and a few minutes later returned leading three or four more birds (Dee was laughing at me again. "How do you know it's the same bird?" "How do I know it's not, and why does it matter?"). To the birds, the tree was safety from the storm, a community of protection and an opportunity to call to the others to join them.

They didn't worry about calling their instinct "Higher Power" or the community offering refuge "God" or the tree "Heaven." Somehow those birds sensed the gathering storm and their basic need for shelter. They simultaneously reached consensus in meeting that need and did what had to be done without judgement, debate or hesitation.

We sat outside well past the first raindrop and watched and listened as the chirpping came to a gradual cessation.