Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Irreverin

Home
Progressive Christian
Flying Lessons

Flying Lessons

Last updated on: August 2, 2018 at 5:12 am by Erin Wathen

Flying Lessons 2018-08-02T05:12:23-07:00 Erin Wathen

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

This story starts with a nest.

In the eaves of a front porch, in Nashville, at my brother’s house. Where I was on vacation.

Little brother is usually pretty particular about the general order and cleanliness of things. An organized sock drawer when he was 6. Cleaning out my car when he was 12 (and I was 20). A spotless house, categorized bookshelves, and—do not get me started on his cooking prep stations.

Which is to say, you’d think that the idea of birds setting up residence in his personal space–and all the mess that implies–would send him running for the rubber gloves and disinfectant.

But he let them stay. No eviction notice. Because some things just need to be left where they are.

And so four eggs came to stay, on a high wall, in a small corner, of an immaculate house, in Music City.

For weeks, my brother Chris and his wife Megan watched these birds hatch, then feather up. Watched the daddy bird (these are egalitarian creatures) come and feed the babies several times a day. Watched them outgrow that nest.

So that by the time I showed up, with my own hatchlings, they were about to fly the coop. And then our mom came too, so now it was a family event, this nightly bearing witness on the patio. To watch, to wonder, “Will they fly today?”

As you can imagine, my children became deeply invested in this cause.

We watched a couple of evening feedings. The bird was a small finch of some kind, with a red head. I Googled “finch, red head” to find out what kind of bird family we were watching.

They are–wait for it–Red Head Finches. Well.

Some things are just exactly what they are, and do not need words to make them fly.

For three days, we watched. On the third day, as we were leaving for a restaurant, my daughter spotted a dead baby bird on the ground, beneath the porch, beneath the nest. “That was Orville,” she said matter-of-factly, as my brother gathered the remains (yes, rubber gloves and all). She had, of course, named them.

It was a somber moment before dinner.

We came home after and proceeded to the patio. Three left in the nest. (Commence singing: There were three in the bed and the little one said …)

Maybe they were restless after mourning their brother. Maybe we disturbed them. Maybe they knew we were rooting for them, or perhaps it was just too perfect an evening in the south to be still in that pile of sticks any longer. But one of them (“Wilbur!” says my girl) jumped to the edge, lifted a tentative wing to the breeze–and flew. A rise and a dive. And perfect landing in a nearby tree.

Loud cheering from the human spectators. The neighbors probably think we’re nuts. But it’s not every day you witness a miracle of evolution. The triumph of a small thing in a world that destroys what is vulnerable; a beauty set free, in a world that sees beauty as something to hold and possess.

Some things survive. Some things make it off the ground.

So, whether annoyed or possibly motivated by our overzealous cheers, sister Amelia followed into the air. A swoop and an upswing. (The minor fall/the major lift…) And she was off. Landed in the tree next to her brother.

More cheers. More clapping. More urging the last one out into the wild.

By then it was dark. We went to bed, and early the next day, I loaded up my brood and headed for points north. For other family and other porches.

Right around dusk (which was the bird-watching hour), on the other side of the state line, my son runs up to me. “Text Uncle Chris! See if the other baby bird flew away!”

“Yes, right after you left!” he answered us. “I could tell he was close, so I shouted some encouragement and off he went!” (Insert lots of emojis, because he knows the kids love emojis).

“A 75-percent house success rate!” adds Aunt Megan.

I’d call that not too shabby, as minor and major miracles go.

The daddy bird that fed those babies … his head was amazing bright red, a flaming Phoenix. Wings tipped red, as if dipped in ink; poised in flight to write the story of the world.

Those babies, though, were a drab brownish gray. The color of earth and dirt that is not quite anything yet. And as they took that first dive into the open, all I could think was … Do you have any idea how beautiful you’re going to be, one of these days?

Some things are just exactly what they are. They do not need words to make them fly.

Uncategorized

Previous Post

July 30, 2018

GUEST BLOG: ‘White Supremacy’ Challenge Exposed My ‘White Fragility’

Next Post

August 6, 2018 The Gospel According to Hamilton: Borders, Walls, and Who's Really Free

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category a good week for progress Advent and Christmas Being a Person desert life faith and community Good News for Progressives Lent and Easter Marriage and Family S*^! Jesus Says sabbatical road tripping Spirituality in Culture Talking to Strangers the "Best Stuff I Ever Ate" diet travel Uncategorized writing Writing Prompt Wednesday

Select a Month January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 February 2011 July 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Great is your faithfulness! Your mercies are new every what?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Season Hour Day Morning