An Aspiring Soloist?

Cape Cod is a bird watcher’s paradise. Migratory flight patterns bring thousands of species to us regularly, offering even those of us who don’t consider ourselves “birders” opportunities to observe the unusual, the rare, and the beautiful.

I hesitate to note an occasional annoyance with the birds, however. In the spring and early summer they seem to awake at the first hint of light (which for them is between 4:30 and 4:40), fill the trees surrounding my bedroom and its open windows, and announce the arrival of the new day at the top of their voices! Oh, how I wish our schedules matched, for my alarm isn’t set to go off until 6:00; but, really, how can one complain when they are just doing their job, the one God gave them? By the time I got to church on Sunday, the flocks had dispersed and the morning symphony had ceased. There remained just one lone sparrow singing from the limestone facade of the Chapter House.

“Accidental” Orchestra

Beneath my feet the steady crunching of the stones on the path beside the south side of the church creates a consistent rhythm as I head toward my office. The notes of someone practicing scales on the organ seeps through the church stone wall.  A cacophony of bird songs reaches across the marsh sounding as though they are rehearsing for a concert. Drifting from the practice area in the underground area of the Chapter House a young person is playing melodic exercises on a marimba. We are all part of a symphony; we are all part of a plan. God is the conductor!