Recently, I shared dad’s Pessimistic Optimism in the first issue of Bits of Bill and today, it’s all about birds; a particular crow to be more exact.  Could it be possible that these creatures know instinctively how to live in a way that could benefit us, if we learned from their flight path?  Read on to find out.

A number of yeas ago, my wife and I were adopted by a crow with a gimpy leg.  He arrived one day, took up a perch atop the big alder in our back yard, and refused to move on.  During the day, he would disappear occasionally; but, because he was there morning and evening, it appeared that he felt the tree was his.  This became obvious, later, when we heard the nestlings.

Now, I’m quite sure that the bird was perfectly capable of fending for him or herself; but, because of the limp, we began buying him generic bread and bulk peanuts.  The final assignment of gender was based solely on the bird’s arrogant attitude.

In a week or two, I suppose as a way of showing his appreciation, we were introduced to his three offspring.

We named them, The Twins, and Joe; the latter being the runt; and our enjoyment, in observing their march to adulthood, was well worth the extra loaf of bread and an additional bag of peanuts a week.

As the passage of time brought the youngsters closer to adulthood, the family became less and less individualistic.  Papa was the exception, because his leg, neither retracting nor extending properly, marked him, even in flight.

One morning, as the bird, I thought to be Joe, finished its snack, it squawked a few times, caught the freshening breeze, and lifted effortlessly into the morning sky.

Watching, I was chagrined by the superiority of this lesser of God’s creations; and by the ease with which it had adapted.  I was humbled by the knowledge that, although it might take a life, it would never do so in anger.  It would accept, with no need to know why, the size, shape and color of all God’s creatures.  When it became time, it would give of itself, whatever was necessary, to rear its offspring; and, barring the intervention of humankind, this bird, and its kind, would continue to live in the manner God set forth when creating them.

Papa spent several years with us, and with each season brought a new family into our lives.  That we gained a great deal from the experience was obvious.  In the editing and rewriting of this piece, however, I was beset by the niggling feeling that much of what was offered had been overlooked… or ignored.

An examination of that uneasiness revealed that there is good reason to question the manner in which humans, particularly the Christian variety, think and speak of themselves.  Granted, we are forgiven, but have we, by faith and adherence to God’s laws, maintained our assigned position above the crows; or, like them, do we flit about with little purpose, making a great deal of noise, while giving no thought to what lies beyond today’s allotment of bread and peanuts?