Stop. Look. Listen.

If you read this blog on a regular basis, you know that Ed and I have been doing some birdwatching on Farm Dover. Four times this week we have gone out on expeditions -- three times early in the morning and once just before sundown. For me, these have been eye-opening experiences.

It's just amazing what I see when I sit very still and really look. I always knew that lots of birds made their home on Farm Dover, but I assumed they were all robins, or crows, or cardinals or an occasional blue jay. But this week, I've been amazed at the number of species that either nest here or just stop in on their way to some other destination. And I've been amazed at how truly beautiful they are.

On Friday, we saw an indigo bunting, which is as striking in its blueness as a cardinal is in its redness. The small sparrow-like bird is almost iridescent as it flies through the air.

 

And then on Friday afternoon, we hear a "wich-i-ty, wich-i-ty, wich-i-ty" and follow the sound to glance a common yellowthroat. This little masked warbler likes dense, brushy areas and hedgerows, making it hard to spot. But spot one, we did. I see him first, silently pointing him out to Ed. We each have a pair of binoculars and seek him out; he is perched on a twig in our middle field. "Look," I whisper, "it has a yellow throat and breast." Ed notes that it also dark mask around its eye and an olive green back and tail. It isn't until we get back home that we consult our field guides to figure out what kind of bird he is.

Then we circle up to the upper field, above the lake. And there we find another yellow bird. Come to find out, this one is a yellow-breasted chat. A beautiful bird.

I know this "sport" of birdwatching can be quite competitive. But for me it is more like meditation: Being still. Being observant. Listening. Looking. It's a chance for me to see our farm in a different way at different times of day -- in different light. As we move around the perimeter of our property, we stop and look not only for birds, but for their nests. We look at specific trees, wildflowers, the fields of winter wheat, the creek, the beehives, the sky and its clouds. It's an exercise in stopping to look, to listen, and to really see.