Heartwarming sunshine today, vibrating air and thin clouds on a blue sky. I sit outside in the garden, next to the hortensias, who surround me with their big bushy heads. As the wind caresses the blossoms of the lilac, they say yes with their flowers.
I look up from my chair, with a book in my hands and I see the dove. It is a small collared dove, with a black necklace and soft grey plumage. She is looking at me. She lands on the feeder tray, about two metres from me, and starts to fuss in the red berries. She pushes them aside and picks the seeds that are laying below. She walks a few circles and then she looks up; no more seeds to find. Her red-black eyes hold the question.
I rise from my chair to go in the house and bring the seeds. This moment is the magic – she keeps on sitting on the feeder, eyes on me. She does not move a feather. There is no fear. There is trust. Months have gone by and she learned from day one that it is ok, she is safe here. I stand up to get more seeds, to feed her, to supplement somewhat what she can find. If I make a move, it is focused and non-threatening. My hand brings her food – always a treat and never a threat. It is about us, trusting, that I am here for her well-being and that she is here for mine. Our care and presence goes both ways.
For the naked eye this is just about me feeding a bird. It is much more than that. The bird also feeds me, in ways she might not be aware of. We both send a message and the message is clear: here you are home. Here you are seen as a friend, as a carrier of love, as a symbol of plenty. Here your presence brings joy and smiles, here your presence shows the world is alive and signing. Here you are welcome. Here you are home.