Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Naturalist

I had never seen a robin's egg before, until he lifted me up to see.  I did not know that hummingbird eggs looked like Tic Tacs or that their nests are woven together with spiderwebs. 

Such wonder, and he knew it all.  The other morning he said, "Do you want to hear something terrible?  The old tree with the Great horned owls' nest in it, blew down in the wind."  It was terrible.  He'd been watching that nest for weeks.  Now they were gone.  That tree was not in our yard.  It was five miles away.

Last year's babies.

The Naturalist and His Flock

Patiently he watches,
   with obvious love,
      knows each bird,
         their feather and flight,
         where they nest,
         and when they'll fly. 
In the darkened night
   he hears their call,
       he knows them all 
       not needing sight. 
If such a man,
   only a man,
      can know hundreds, thousands,
       of birds on sea and land, 
How could it be
   that God
       would not know
       the same about

He knows his flock.

1 comment:

Carrie said...

Love it, mom. Beautiful poem. And thanks dad - because any little small bits of bird smarts that I possess are all because of you. Amazingly enough, I sometimes surprise people with what I know about birds!