It is the middle of summer and I am again in my garden with its many flowers, weeds (!), and creatures. I am always thrilled to sit in “my place” at the patio table with a beverage and slow my mind and heart rate down to just watch, to be. As I simply remain alert and open to whoever is also sharing this space, I begin to notice the busyness of nature around me.
Today I am watching a grackle family, specifically a mother and her juvenile. She is apparently teaching him (no, I am not sure of this young one’s gender!) how to eat the nuts and seeds like an adult grackle. While the juvenile is almost the same size as the mother, it is obvious that he is not sure how to negotiate the cylinder feeder to access the nuts. He tries several times to figure it out, but he cannot motor plan how to turn his body and bring his feet up to grasp the perch as he flies toward the food source. So, his mother demonstrates her caring instinct by plucking a nut from the feeder and flying a short distance to the bird bath; the hungry and curious young one joins her at the birdbath. She dunks the nut in the water a few times, then offers the nut to her offspring. Does the nut actually soften, or is it just now wet? Regardless, the juvenile readily takes it in his beak and swallows it down. They repeat this sequence several times then fly away together for more grackle adventures.
Perhaps I am anthropomorphizing this pair of birds, but we see similar indications of “instinctual care” in other species. As Henri Nouwen once wrote,
How differently we would live if we . . . sensed in our whole being how nature is ever ready for us to hear and see the great story of the Creator’s love to which it points. The plants and animals with whom we live teach us about birth, growth, maturation, and death, about the need for gentle care, and especially about the importance of patience and hope.
I am reminded of, and heartened, by the compassionate care lived out in L’Arche. The gentle responses to core members who are anxious or frustrated, the intentional supports for assisting a core member with showering, the unhurried coaching of the steps to making a batch of cookies, the spontaneous joining in a dance session as dinner is being prepared – all evidence of celebration of the dailyness of the lives we live together. May we learn from the Creator, his creatures, and others in our lives how to live life with humility and mercy toward others.
Kim Bryze
Nouwen, H. (1979). Clowning in Rome, pp. 87-88.
