I give my husband a hard time about hopping down bunny
trails while on the internet and getting distracted by other time wasters.
I think I may owe him an apology.
In my defense, however, I’d been working all day long. So,
maybe I needed a break.
Through the window just above my computer, I noticed a grey
bird snatching a bit of suet from a new block I’d put out.
“Who are you?” I wondered as I reached for my field guide.
Hmm. Seemed there was only one possibility—a grey catbird.
Hadn’t
seen him here before. Maybe he had a special affinity for the new suet.
That made me think of “sitting in the catbird seat.” Where
did that phrase come from?
Here comes Peter Cottontail.
Turns out catbirds like to sit in the highest place they can
find to sing. Sitting in the catbird seat means being in a great spot—having
the advantage.
While tracking down the behavior of the bird, I noticed
a YouTube video about catbirds.
Hoppin’ down the bunny trail.
Just had to look at that.
Hippity.
So, if you’re open to going a down bunny trail, you must watch
this video from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. This catbird mimics a wide
array of other birds and frogs. When I played it, the cats went wild. I thought
Wilbur was going to take off his tuxedo.
Hoppity.
Though, I give my husband a hard time, often it’s the things
we don’t plan which bring us the most joy. There are moments we need to shove
everything else off the desk and make room for the unexpected--a grey catbird
who sounds like a choir—a gift from God.
My Catbird’s out there right now pecking around in the suet,
and his mate perches in the top of the peach tree. She’s high all right, but I
feel like I’m the one sitting in the catbird seat.
“Every desirable and beneficial gift comes
out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of
Light” (James 1:17)