The Contemplative Sparrow

I stepped onto the lanai to greet the morning and saw, to my delight, a sparrow perched atop the bird feeder. The serenity I felt in that moment brought to mind something a Buddhist friend once said about meditation: "We're just sitting on the floor, staring blankly into space, doing nothing." 

That sparrow remained motionless for the longest time. As you know, birds at feeders usually start by perching near protective cover and observing what's happening. Once they've determined it's safe, they'll fly over and take their place at the seed trough. Occasionally, a bolder bird may chase others away, while a timid one might take flight if startled.

What you don't often see is a little bird sitting around on top of the feeder, staring blankly into space, doing nothing.

She seemed to be quietly enjoying the moment: the peaceful view, the quiet, and likely the comfort of being so near a source of food with no competition. Eventually, she dropped down to the table and began eating again.

My thoughts turned to other birds--specifically, where were they, I wondered. Scanning the back yard, I saw only one other bird. A Cardinal perched on the fence railing. He seemed just as intrigued by the sparrow's behavior as I was.

A sudden movement farther down the fence caught my attention—it was a blue-tailed skink gripping the side of a fence plank. I wondered if he, too, was watching the sparrow. But soon I realized he wasn't alone; another skink was clinging to the opposite side of the same plank.

Was a territorial showdown about to erupt? That seemed unlikely since a third skink was perched on the adjacent plank at the same latitude. Rather than a rumble, it looked more like a 'meeting after the meeting' of Skinks Anonymous.

Now, some of you are probably thinking, Genome, you're witnessing natural behavior and imagining it's something more. It's only a bird hanging out at the feeder. What could be more natural? And the skinks? They're basking in the sunshine. It's what reptiles do!

You’re right, of course. I tend to view reality through the lens of my imagination. I’ve always believed that even true stories are more interesting and more memorable when elves and faeries are sprinkled in. I think we can all agree that a touch of fantasy can always improve the truth.

My Buddhist buddy knew it all along; the most profound moments come from 'just sitting around, staring blankly into space, doing nothing.' Doesn't matter if it's a sparrow on a feeder, a skink warming on the fence, or a person quietly watching it unfold through the window. The magic isn't in what we do; it's in what we see. And if what we see happens to include a few elves and faeries, it makes the meditation more enchanting.