One January morning a few years ago, I was checking over my list of things to do and calls to make when I heard a lot of noise outside. It was a different kind of call—bird calls—and it was a cacophany.

I glanced up at the skylights in the kitchen and saw half a dozen birds flying over together.

It dawned on me what I was hearing. It couldn’t be just a few loudmouths—it had to be a whole flock of feathered friends stopping over on their migratory way.

Putting aside my list, I walked into the den and peered out over our woodsy back yard below, where dozens of birds were landing. I’ve never seen that many birds in one place.

It was as if someone in the crowd yelled, “Hey, everybirdy! Let’s stop at the Martins’!”

They seemed especially drawn to the areas where dead leaves and pine straw are deepest. Quickly searching for seeds in the debris, they’d throw leaves and twigs in the air, their feathers flying.

The birds moved constantly and randomly, never staying in one place for long. I went outside a couple of times to try to get some photos, but my presence made them take off for the neighbors’ yards. A minute later, either they’d return, or replacements would arrive.

So I went back inside and watched from my own perch, trying to identify them as they flew by. I used our binoculars, a handy Beginner’s Guide to Birds: Eastern Region, and Google. Here’s what I saw:

Dozens of red-winged blackbirds. (Isn’t there a song about that?)
Scores of American robins.
A few blue jays.
One lone common grackle, who looked anything but common with its glossy, iridescent blue head.

To be honest, I never thought much about birds until I started paying attention to the beauty around us.

Wintertime is so quiet, at least around here. We do have birds that don’t migrate, but I don’t often hear them sing or call, so an occasional flash of red in the brown and gray landscape reminds me that the cardinals are still here.

But in the spring, when male birds start serenading the females, it’s like the warm-up before a symphony, when everybody tries out their own trills. To me hearing the birds sing is part of the celebration of spring.

And then, one of my favorite things about summer mornings is listening to birdsong while I’m walking.

In the fall, when migration starts, birds know when to leave their territories in the north (based on food supply and temperature) and where to go, sometimes travelling hundreds of miles south. Those same factors cue them to go back home at just the right time.

Despite all the energy migration requires and the obstacles encountered on the way, many species of birds do it every year. They stop all along the way to eat and rest before they journey on.

For some reason, on that January morning, they chose our yard to stop for a bite and a break. If I hadn’t put aside my to-do list for a little while, I would have missed an extraordinary moment of beauty. Years later, I remember that beauty but not that to-do list.

In 2024, as we set goals and make plans, let’s remember to leave space on our lists for looking for and enjoying the beauty around us.

Have you seen or heard any beauty so far in 2024? I’d love to know. Leave a comment below or on Facebook here.

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