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The singing birds

 

Confessions of a realistic pollyanna

I am a morning person. Quite often, I am awake just shortly before dawn and I love to hear the different birds sing outside of my windows: the kookaburras, the magpies and alike fill the early morning air . Their songs always seem a bit idyllic to me. Then gradually the loud noise of traffic drowns them out. But for a few brief moments during the day, you kind of get the idea of paradise.

I know the life of a bird is not an easy one. I recently read a statistic (whether it is true or not I don't know) that thousands of birds are killed in Australia each year by house cats and other predators. They have to try to build shelter for themselves using twigs and mud. Their diet is not one I envy- worms, seeds, and insects. They have to try to escape the elements. Yet each day they wake up and sing their songs. No matter how difficult each day is, they sing.

I wish I could say that I wake up each day singing, but I can't. Oh most days I am in a good mood, happy to greet the day. I smile, I make coherent sentences, I can join the birds in their songs. But somedays, that is not the case. I might know that I have a very busy day ahead with a few things I don't want to do. Maybe the weather will be cool and my bed might seem so warm. Maybe I might have a lot on my mind. Maybe I am not feeling well. Maybe I stayed up too late the night before. For a variety of reasons there are those days when I don't feel like singing in the morning.

It is on such days I should remember the birds. They sing no matter what. Their joyful songs ring out whether they are being chased by cats, or having to build a new nest, or when a frightfully hot wind blows. The birds know, that things will change and things will be better. The birds know that everyday deserves our praise. Blessings.

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