This morning, on my grass about three feet from my kitchen window, equidistant from the edge of the patio and the corner downspout, I discovered a dead one of these:
I don’t know how it met its end, whether a cat got it or it flew into the side of my house, but it had definitely expired. I saw that its feathers were mostly blue, but I knew it was neither a blue jay nor a bluebird, so I pulled my handy-dandy National Audubon Society Field Guide off the shelf and discovered that my bird was a male Blue Grosbeak. I don’t remember ever seeing one before, and I’m truly sorry that the first one I saw was no longer alive.
I thought of some words Jesus spoke that are recorded in the tenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew:
“Aren’t two sparrows sold for only a penny? But your Father knows when any one of them falls to the ground. Even the hairs on your head are counted. So don’t be afraid! You are worth much more than many sparrows.”
Today, my Father and I both knew that this beautiful creature, though not a sparrow, had fallen to the ground, and it made me sad. I would gladly have donated a few more hairs from my head if that could have prevented its demise.
I may be worth much more than many sparrows, but around here, at least, a male Blue Grosbeak is hard to replace.
