This week the meteorologist on our local network announced that we’re “halfway through winter.” I found that both surprising and encouraging; winter has never been my favorite season and the sight outside my kitchen window is making me anxious for spring.

Each morning when I got my cup of coffee, there was a male bluebird perched on my patio fence. He was sitting there so erect– looking out over his kingdom, a breeze gently fluffing his feathers. Soon I’d see a female bluebird landing nearby and eventually the two would go in and out of the bluebird house that sits in the corner of my flower garden.

No bird has ever caught my attention like the Eastern Bluebird. The male’s vivid, deep blue above and the rusty, brick-red on the throat and chest, in my opinion, is the perfect pairing of colors. Evidently, other people feel that way, too:

Here in central NC, I’ve spotted the birds throughout the winter since we have temperate weather in the South. I don’t remember seeing any bluebirds when I was young– but then I wasn’t watching closely. It’s only been in the last ten years that I’ve noticed them. I read that in the late seventies severe winters reduced their numbers dramatically, and Eastern Bluebird became an endangered species. Through the efforts of many Bluebird Enthusiasts, creating trails of houses to replace ones they’d lost with the disappearance of wood fences, the numbers began to increase.

Bluebirds have long been associated with happiness and hope. According to an article in Birds&Blooms, “What Does It Mean When You See a Bluebird” by Emily Hannemann, she says “around the world, bluebirds have a wide variety of associations and meanings–all of which carry positive connotations. Some believe the bluebird is a symbol of joy and hope and others, that good news will be arriving soon.”

When I watched the male bird outside my window, I thought of my friend. She told me that a large number of bluebirds flew into her yard right at the moment her boyfriend proposed. I looked at that bird on the fence as he surveyed his surroundings and wondered what he might be telling me. I was a bit down that morning, feeling some lingering irritation from the previous day, trying to make my way through a struggle.

I worked in my kitchen and watched the mother and father bluebirds come and go. Eventually the male bird had straw in his mouth — a sign that my birdhouse was an acceptable home. I felt hopeful knowing that their blue eggs would fill the nest and be a sure sign that spring was on the way. The very thought of longer, warmer days and time to plant my garden improved my spirit.

Later, I went to my mailbox and there was a card from my friend, Delores who has a gift for knowing when to send her homemade, heartfelt messages. The outside was turquoise and yellow and immediately brought a smile — turquoise my favorite color and yellow a reminder of brighter days ahead. Inside her message of ongoing love and support with a little bird perched at the top — was like my bluebird of happiness bringing me a hopeful message.

This may seem like a small thing; but what I’ve learned over my years is that the small things make a huge difference.

The sight outside my window reminded me of the constancy of nature– how no matter what is going on, the bluebirds keep showing up in their pattern of partnering and raising their clutches. The well-timed card from my friend, gave me hope that day when I was feeling a little down.

When I first heard this poem by Emily Dickinson (12/10/1830 – 5/15/1886), the bird image that came to me was a bluebird:

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.“

I like the thought of this small creature having an important role, a messenger that sits within the Soul. Sometimes it just takes a moment of observing the perfection of nature to remind me, to remind us, that nature shows us how perfectly things unfold — and that’s the most promising message of all.

Best to you,

Connie