Just Heavenly

Just Heavenly

 

“You made springs flow in wadies that wind among the mountains.

They give drink to every beast of the field; here wild asses quench their thirst.

Beside them the birds of heaven nest; among the branches they sing.” Psalm 104:10-12

If you read all of Psalm 104, I think that you could easily, and probably correctly assert, that the author is referring to the birds of our skies.  Part of me is OK with that, because even the birds of this creation are fascinating. 

Last week was my annual turkey hunt.  One of my favorite things about spring turkey hunting is to experience dawn envelop you.  I left my truck parked near the road and headed for the edge of the woods about 15 minutes away.  An orange crescent moon had just climbed free of the eastern horizon; the sun would give chase in another hour.  As I got settled into my blind a robin blurted out an urgent call about 100 yards to my left.  Soon various warblers joined in.  A flock of mallards circled hard just above me, their strong wingbeats tearing the still sky; they settle into the cut cornfield a quarter mile away.  A pair of sandhill cranes fly in from the west, their raucous calls add to the rising choir as daylight begins to pull back the covers of last night.  It seems that it s the birds that sing the dawn into being.  

This week, I am much too late for dawn.  We had some severe weather during the night, but a steady west wind this morning finally blew the humidity and storm clouds to the east, and this afternoon a mellow warm sun owns most of the sky.  It is a good time for a walk. 

The first thing I noticed is that the ditch along the road was filling with wildflowers.  Blood root, trout lilies, and marsh marigolds were all blooming, and the may-apples will likely be open by tomorrow.  Not to be outdone, the birds were demanding I take notice as well.  In the far back bay of the pond about a dozen white pelicans huddled tightly.  A bunch of bluewing teal came in fast and low, and with a well-choreographed hard left bank, they settled on the pond’s rippled surface.  Along the near shore several dozen acrobatic swallows were putting on a spectacular airshow.  Then a small flock of black terns flew right through the show with their own twisting flight display. This is the first time this spring that the swallows have been this far north, and I’ve actually never seen the black terns here before.  The trees of the woods across from the pond seem to join the chorus, but it is really the redwings, finches and sparrows that decorate most of the trees that are adding voice to the day.

Already so much color is splashed across the sky.  And yet, blue indigos, ruby-throated hummingbirds and bluebirds among others have yet to return and add to the palette.

How marvelous that God formed everything from nothing.  Still, when one sees the beauty of even this passing world, one must wonder whether God used a template.  As the human artist paints from observation and memory, so also did God?  As wonderful as the birds are here, what would the birds of Heaven look like if they exist?  What unimagined colors would their plumage be?  How even more masterful their flight?  What sort of melody would they raise to accompany the Heavenly hosts of angels? 

I wonder.

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan

Photo by Boris Smokrovic on Unsplash