At the last St. Clare silent retreat before this summer’s hiatus, Reverend Mimsy Jones invited us to remember the resurrection stories in our lives. The one that came to mind continues to enrich my life in ways I never imagined.
Last summer, I left Memphis to help my daughter and her husband with their first baby – also my first grandchild. Oh, the joy of being with this precious little boy every day!
I planned to stay with them at their home in Florida for three months, but ended up there for seven.
During my time in Florida, I longed for an extended community of friends to share this journey with me as my grandson grew. But my daughter’s family was new to the area, too. How could I possibly be lonely or feel isolated with this baby?
The seasons kept moving along around us, and I found myself at the threshold of Lent. Just before Ash Wednesday, I heard something beyond me say, “Would you be willing to step outside for one minute a day for 40 days to listen?”
I said yes.
During Lent, I kept a journal of what I heard each day. Thanks to the “Merlin Bird ID by Cornell Lab” app, I also listed the birds singing around me and my grandson.
Each day, the sadness I’d felt without community was replaced by joy, anticipation, and marvel at the majesty of all that surrounds us. Bird songs resurrected me as I sat outside with a baby before his own sounds had gone much further than coos or squeals. Throughout those 40 days, the wilderness welcomed us home everyday.
Day 12
Cacophony of bird song this morning.
12 sing at once.
Tufted titmouse to American Goldfinch.
Eastern Phoebe responds with very few notes.
Rooster cockadoodles nearby.
I am of this.
Trees look grey brown from here.
Up close?
Spring springs.
It’s been a long winter in this isolated town.
My Grand and I both grow up more each day.
So do the trees.
How could we not grow amidst the symphony of birdsong?
We listen.
Day 20
Tufted Titmouse, Carolina Chickadee
Call the wild back and forth between trees.
The Uncommon Red-Wing Blackbird adds song between the wind’s blowing breath.
This lonely place, his time of isolation from the community I know,
Is now filled with song and feathers.
I begin to see the beauty of this time away.
This chrysalis has forced new wings.
I pray this listening inspires new flight.
Day 27
All the regulars check in…
Carolina Wren, Tufted Titmouse,
Eastern Phoebe.
Yellow-Rumped and Pine Warbler arrive soon after.
American Robin, White-Throated Sparrow, Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, Northern Cardinal and Mockingbird, Carolina Chickadee, Chipping Sparrow, and my poetic friend the Dark-Eyed Junco.
A revival for my soul.
This most beautiful time came with a side of loneliness and disappointment.
27 days ago as Lent began and home had been far away for 6 months,
the wilderness invited me to step into it to listen for one minute a day for 40 days.
Downy Woodpecker and Great Blue Heron have arrived.
I might have missed them if I wasn’t listening.
Sound without sight brought us closer.
My ears are more keen now.
I know how often Phoebe and Titmouse call and respond.
I know that when Hawk soars,
His call drowns out all others’.
They’ve taught me to sing as the sun rises and sets.
To know that when storms are coming,
like today,
I’m to sing louder
and sense my shelter.
I don’t know.
I’m just listening.
A song revival for all of me.
Amen.
Connie Cruthirds – storyteller, photo-journeyist, and a weaver of words in the style of Mary Oliver and David Whyte – writes to discover the intriguing life within us all. She is married, with two adult children, and is a creative coach helping people find their way through life. She is a parishioner at Church of the Holy Communion in Memphis.
