While waiting for the kettle to boil, so that I could make myself a cup of fresh coffee, I took up my usual pose and gazed out of the kitchen window into the back garden. It’s something that is so automatic I wasn’t aware that I was doing it until I noticed a larger than normal greyish blur attacking another greenish blur. My pose was so routine that I was staring out without the aid of optical enhancement and everything was a blur. This routine has made m quite skilled skilled at recognising blurs. I can tell the difference between a Blue Tit blur and a Great Tit blur. I can even tell the difference between a Starling blur and a Blackbird blur. I knew that the green blur being attacked by the grey blur was an apple. But this grey blur – what could it be?
In one of those strange moments of irrationality my immediate thought was to call Sue into the kitchen from the downstairs study to see if she could identify the grey blur. Getting my own glasses was only a secondary thought. Being a man who can’t do anything the same way twice makes finding my glasses a bit of an adventure. My immediate thought was that they were upstairs in the upstairs study (yes, we have two studies), so off I went. No, they weren’t there. Next stopping point was Sue’s downstairs study; still no joy. Finally I did what I should have done in the first place – I asked Sue if she knew. Sue was still in the kitchen looking out of the window. She, of course, knew instantly where my glasses were and of course they were right next to her on the kitchen window sill right next to where I had started my search.
Having finally located my optical assistance I put them on and now saw with clarity the new thing before me. I already knew it was a bird, my vision isn’t that bad, but what type of bird? It was as big as a Blackbird, if not a little bigger. It had a speckled chest a bit like a Thrush. It had brown wings.
While I watched Sue went upstairs to locate the bird book, which of course she did without any problems whatsoever. It turns out that the bird in question was a Fieldfare. By some latent recognition that came from somewhere in my past, I know not where, I had already said to Sue that it looked like a Fieldfare. I’ve often watched Who Wants to be a Millionaire and shouted at people to go with the thought that had popped into their mind when the had first seen the question. These answers are regularly the right ones, the human rain is a marvelous thing.
For those of you not familiar with the Fieldfare:
Fieldfares are large, colourful thrushes, much like a mistle thrush in general size, shape and behaviour. They stand very upright and move forward with purposeful hops. They are very social birds, spending the winter in flocks of anything from a dozen or two to several hundred strong. These straggling, chuckling flocks that roam the UK’s countryside are a delightful and attractive part of the winter scene.
It turns out that this bird has travelled across Scandinavia and Europe to be in our garden on this cold winters day. But it’s not the Fieldfare that is the main point of this Blessing, it’s the joy of experiencing something new. I hope that I never loose that sense of excitement and that new always means fresh rather than fear. One of the main reasons I write these posts is to keep my focus looking on the positive side of things. It’s easy to focus on the negative, focusing on the positive requires some effort. It’s the same with things that are new; everything new has its problems but it can also bring excitement and renewal.
As a Christian I am on a journey with God. Sometimes I can look at my life and get worried at how little I have changed but every now and then God gives me a glimpse of how far we have come together. It’s a bit like climbing a hill. When climbing I always feel like I haven’t travelled very far at all until I turn around and see the vista laid out before me. I’ve climbed lots of hills but it’s always a surprise to me when I turn around. All of us need those glimpses of how far we have come. Every journey means change, we can either worry about it or embrace it and revel in it. You can look back and hanker for the valley or you can enjoy the new view and look forward to even better ones ahead.
(Sorry, I didn’t manage to get a picture of the actually Fieldfare)
