If you live in the city or a heavily-developed neighborhood you may only see a few birds. But out here in the country, with plenty of cover and a variety of bugs, trees and weeds, there are dozens of species living within earshot of my house.
And I love, love, love hearing their songs.
Sometimes it’s the keening wail of a hawk flying high and searching for something to eat. Sometimes it’s an owl calling to its mate or warning off another suitor. Often it’s the chitter-chatter of wrens or robins or cardinals as they go about their daily business and fuss over patches of ground finding food.
The blue-jays chase the squirrels.
Mockingbirds dive-bomb crows.
Each one doing what it was created to do, not worrying about a thing.
A veritable chorus fills the air.
And at night I get a lovely bonus-a whippoorwill’s voice drifts toward my window through the dark reminding me that not everyone is ready to fall asleep.
All these songs make my heart sing too.
They lift my spirit and fill me with hope.
They remind me that I have also been given a song though I often forget it.
Yet in the light of day, the Eternal shows me His love.
When night settles in and all is dark, He keeps me company—
His soothing song, a prayerful melody to the True God of my life.
Psalm 42:8 VOICE
But when I choose to remember and sing, it calls courage to my heart.