We recently started birding as a family, and toward this end purchased the “Peterson Field Guide to Birds” and some binoculars. My husband and I were discussing ideas about new hobbies we could try to develop as a family that would foster connection as well as learning and curiosity. Birding – very amateurly – was an idea my husband and I both found we were excited about, and which we also hope our little baby will find it to be fun as he grows bigger. It also meets various interests that both of us have, including sharing time together, collecting, and generally observing the world around us, to name a few. As we are not too serious in our birding ambitions, we also enjoy the idea of talking as we walk, generally sharing enjoyment, and learning, as well as practicing the art of being present and mindful.
This past weekend we went out as a little family to a local forest preserve, and were delighted that in our short, baby-attention-span-length hike we glimpsed a number of feathered friends. My husband and I were both struck by how, when we are present and actually looking, the world is full of wonder that we may otherwise miss or take for granted. One especially wonderful moment was when a red-tailed hawk unexpectedly swooped across the trail a mere 10 feet or so away from us; it was so much larger and regal and complex and sleek than we ever realized when observing hawks either from afar or in captivity as had been the case in our previous encounters.
We also spied – and hopefully identified? – several other types of birds. It is hard to say what was most enjoyable out of this process – noticing and hearing birds, using the binoculars and trying to focus them before a bird flitted away, trying to remember notable features to reference as we quickly thumbed through our bird guide, logging what we thought we found, or just generally enjoying one another, nature, and laughter.
As we meandered about with eyes that were actually looking, my husband and I started to reflect a bit on the wonder and mystery of the world. It was one of those summer mornings that was warm but not hot, and surrounded with the sounds, sights, and smell of vibrant life that only a midwestern summer can hold – green trees thick with leaves and trailed by vines arching alongside and even above the gravel trail, various colors and textures of grasses gently swaying and rustling, light and darkness playing hide and seek among the breeze blown leaves of the tree groves, splashes of blue and yellow and purple and white flowers breaking up the shades of green, the sticky humidity making even the air feel alive and weighty, the hum of various bugs, the songs and calls of yet (to us) un-identified birds.
I find opening my eyes to the physical world also seems to encourage my soul to be more reflective and mindful. Being in nature leaves me feeling appreciative and awe-struck by its beauty and complexity, yet I sense my own finitude as I notice the mystery, wildness, and even danger of the forest and all that may be found within it. For all of humankind’s intelligence, ingenuity, and propensity to organize and control, even a small patch of nature reminds me that I myself am so small and my ability to control and to know is so limited. Which makes me think about how creation points to its Creator – imperfectly of course, especially in a world marked by the effects of the Fall – and yet in such a tangible way. God is unfathomably beautiful, good, loving, and faithful, yet he also is glorious, omnipotent, and righteous such that apart from the grace offered us in Christ his very perfection and holiness would leave us all, including me, undone. If even the greatness of a tiny corner of God’s creation humbles me, how great is God himself? One of my favorite psalms, which I think beautifully expresses God’s sovereignty over creation as well as how creation points to his glory and moves us to worship, is Psalm 104. Notice that even birds are mentioned, which seems especially apropos for a post that begins with birding!
Psalm 104 New International Version (NIV)
1 Praise the LORD, my soul.
LORD my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with splendor and majesty.
2 The LORD wraps himself in light as with a garment;
he stretches out the heavens like a tent
3 and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.
He makes the clouds his chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
4 He makes winds his messengers,
flames of fire his servants.
5 He set the earth on its foundations;
it can never be moved.
6 You covered it with the watery depths as with a garment;
the waters stood above the mountains.
7 But at your rebuke the waters fled,
at the sound of your thunder they took to flight;
8 they flowed over the mountains,
they went down into the valleys,
to the place you assigned for them.
9 You set a boundary they cannot cross;
never again will they cover the earth.
10 He makes springs pour water into the ravines;
it flows between the mountains.
11 They give water to all the beasts of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
12 The birds of the sky nest by the waters;
they sing among the branches.
13 He waters the mountains from his upper chambers;
the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.
14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,
and plants for people to cultivate—
bringing forth food from the earth:
15 wine that gladdens human hearts,
oil to make their faces shine,
and bread that sustains their hearts.
16 The trees of the LORD are well watered,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.
17 There the birds make their nests;
the stork has its home in the junipers.
18 The high mountains belong to the wild goats;
the crags are a refuge for the hyrax.
19 He made the moon to mark the seasons,
and the sun knows when to go down.
20 You bring darkness, it becomes night,
and all the beasts of the forest prowl.
21 The lions roar for their prey
and seek their food from God.
22 The sun rises, and they steal away;
they return and lie down in their dens.
23 Then people go out to their work,
to their labor until evening.
24 How many are your works, LORD!
In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
25 There is the sea, vast and spacious,
teeming with creatures beyond number—
living things both large and small.
26 There the ships go to and fro,
and Leviathan, which you formed to frolic there.
27 All creatures look to you
to give them their food at the proper time.
28 When you give it to them,
they gather it up;
when you open your hand,
they are satisfied with good things.
29 When you hide your face,
they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
they die and return to the dust.
30 When you send your Spirit,
they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.
31 May the glory of the LORD endure forever;
may the LORD rejoice in his works—
32 he who looks at the earth, and it trembles,
who touches the mountains, and they smoke.
33 I will sing to the LORD all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
34 May my meditation be pleasing to him,
as I rejoice in the LORD…
35b Praise the LORD, my soul.
Praise the LORD.
I join the psalmist in saying “Praise the LORD, my soul. LORD my God, you are very great; you are clothed with splendor and majesty.” Yes, praise the LORD, oh my soul. Praise the LORD.
