Birdie on my window sill

When I was small my mother often read poems to me as I was taking my nap. There was one that started the same way I titled this essay. But since my bedroom was on the second floor of a house that had a full basement, I never got to see a birdie on my window sill. My mother said we were too high up for the little birds. But now, in my own office on the ground floor, with a wall made up mainly of windows, I see many birds on or beside my window sill. In fact some try to come in with me and hit the glass instead. That makes me sad, but they usually fly away again after they have rested a moment.

Yesterday, in all the snow and ice that is on the ground I could see four cardinals, two blue jays, many sparrows and other small birds, and a ladderback woodpecker, all within 10 feet of my windows. The sight of the colorful birds against the still white snow was almost worth all the cold weather we have had. Lester had just come in from bringing an armload of wood for our free-standing fireplace (in other words, a stove with a glass door). He had sat down for a minute to rest when I called to him to come see all these cardinals and blue jays. He waited a few seconds and then replied, "Call me again when you see a robin."

I let him rest, of course.

That made me start thinking about the excitement of seeing something for the first time. He had seen many cardinals through the winter, and blue jays are plentiful around our oak trees. The woodpeckers of various sizes and names are interesting and welcome, but we have been seeing quite a few of them this winter. But when spring comes and we actually do see a robin I am sure we will call to each other to announce our new resident. The first robin of spring is worth getting out of a chair to see, or even to walk to a window. "Are you sure it is a robin?" "Yes, I first noticed it hopping on the ground."

Of course we will also be aware of other firsts, such as crocuses, buds on the trees, more blue sky and warmer weather. All will be very welcome.

But last night when all the lights in the house were out, I happened to look out a west window in our bedroom and was amazed at how bright the stars were. They looked like they were nearer to the earth than the stars of a summer night would be. I realized that often we have left a light on for a late-to-bed sleeper, or to be cautious for in-the-night excursions, so I hadn't seen the beauty of this bitter cold night before.

I'll admit the stars looked much prettier to me from my warm bedroom than they would have if I had been forced to be outside for a long time on that night. But it was almost enough to make me consider dressing for a walk tonight and to actually go outside to see the stars more up close and personal. You noticed I said almost enough to make me consider going outside. I had to realize that there are dangers underfoot on such a night. I don't think my son would appreciate being awakened to come get me out of a snowy ditch, or worse yet have to call an ambulance to take my frozen body somewhere.

I will stay inside, night and day, until I am sure of my footing and well protected from the weather. Even those colorful birdies I've been seeing each day around my window sills roost somewhere safe at night and they don't have to rely on clumsy feet, poor balance or poor night vision. I wonder if they ever look at the bright stars. Maybe one of the female cardinals will chirp to her mate to come look at the bright stars. He possibly might answer, "Chirp again when the sun shines warmer."