It’s been a few weeks since my last blog and today when I sat down and started to write about something else, I was interrupted by my sparrow friend tapping on my window and singing to me–again.
That’s right. He’s been at it this whole time. It’s now been at least three weeks since Mr. Sparrow started tapping on my window. He’s become a fixture around the church. The entire staff knows about his visits to my window, as does the adult Sunday school class and even a few folks who have been in my office when Mr. Sparrow comes calling.
Last week, I was out most of a morning at meetings and the hospital. When I arrived in my office at noon, my sparrow friend immediately showed up to greet me. One of the staff members commented that Pastor Ann must be here because the sparrow has begun his window-tapping.
So now I am wondering if the bird is actually fixated on me. I’m probably anthropomorphizing the bird, but it sure does seem that he mostly shows up when I’m around. He likes to sit on my widow sill or on the shrubs outside my windows and watch me. He sings to me a lot and his window-tapping has actually diminished, even though his visits are just as frequent. He’s doing more sitting than tapping now, more watching me than flying into the window.
I joked that perhaps this male sparrow—I looked up his markings and he is definitely male—hasn’t managed to find a mate and is courting me. Silly thought, of course. Or maybe he has found a mate and he is keeping an eye on me so I don’t pose any threat to her.
And there is always the possibility that he’s stalking me. Think: Hitchcock’s The Birds.
The bottom line is this: I have no idea what is going through his little sparrow brain. I have no idea why he has not learned that the windows will not permit him entry. I have no idea why he seems to have focused his attention on me. And I have no idea how long this may go on. Mr. Sparrow is a mystery to me.
Then again, as I said in a recent sermon, most people are mysteries. We are mysteries to each other, often not understanding other people’s motives or ways of thinking or behavior. Sometimes we do not understand our own motives or ways of thinking or behavior. Life—people, animals, birds—is one huge mystery of which we can comprehend only the tiniest part, including the part that is us.
Thank goodness that we have a Creator who understands the whole—the whole of life, the whole of creation, the whole of us. Thank goodness we have a Creator who embraces, accepts and loves the whole kit-and-kaboodle. Thank goodness we have a Creator who sends little brown sparrows to befriend a pastor who is often too busy, so that she might discover a bit of laughter and joy in the antics of a bird.
Maybe I should name him…what about Fred?