Abundance

 


Abundance

The morning was bright and inviting, so I pulled on my hikers and headed out for an early walk.  There was only a slight stirring of breeze which was fortunate because it was coming straight in from the north.  The air was chilly, and as if by reflex, I zipped my hooded sweatshirt up to my chin.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the big ponds up ahead were coming into view.  The high grasses of the field began to give way to brittle cattails.  Male redwing blackbirds perched on the tip top of the cattails, puffing up and singing that unique call that starts with a sharp piercing note and then trails off into a rattling trill.  They all look and sound the same to me; I’m not exactly sure how the females make their selections.

Now from about a hundred yards away I can see that the berm all along the northern edge of the pond is covered with geese.  They almost appear to be arranged in neat rows as if planted there; each one is faced to the north and there is little spacing between each bird.  The honking is faint and sounds calming.  They appear to be enjoying the warmth of the rising sun. 

As I continue to draw nearer, the honking increases a bit and they begin to stand and then make their way to the water.  It is a formidable flotilla as they glide along the pond’s surface.  I don’t stop or even look directly at them; I’m hoping that my passing by won’t disturb them too much.  I do take one quick glance and estimate that there are at least 500 birds.  I see several pairs of mallards that seem to be swimming hard to catch up with the geese, and over by the little island a knot of deep divers, gleaming black and white with the sun, seem quite content.

I’m more than half way past the pond when behind me I hear the intensity and urgency of the honking burst into the air.  I turn to look just as there is a sudden rush of wings, and what had been an empty sky is suddenly filled with geese struggling to gain altitude.  Birds, wings beating hard seem at first to be headed in every direction at once.  It almost looks like chaos, but even in this initial surge I see multiple groups falling into formations.  When I see them against a soaring sky instead of sitting across the pond I realize that I seriously underestimated their number.  Likely twice as many as I first thought were in the air and all the way against the far shore others still sat on the pond, unconvinced, or uninvited I am not sure.  It is not chaos but abundance.

If you do not turn to take in the abundance, how will you not miss counting the blessing in the next breath, or in the next heartbeat, or the next time your eyes open to a new dawn, or a loved one touches your cheek affectionately?

I smile at the geese that stayed behind.  I think I have an accurate count this time.  I’d say that there were about twelve wicker baskets of them.

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” John 10:10    

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan       


Photo by Adrien on Unsplash

Comments