Holding Their Names

Chestnut-sided Warbler at four feet watching me watch him

We carry their names all winter:

Black-throated Blue, Prothonotary, Blackburnian, Chestnut-sided, Nashville.

The names held inside, half-asleep,

listening for the wind to turn.

And then, one blustery evening,

the wind turned and brought us gifts.

I walked into the park and the air was full of song,

full of motion,

full of small bright bodies we had been waiting for since fall.

I joined a group of fellow birders

on the bridge over Sugar Creek.

We were all smiling.

We scanned the canopy

and softly called out the names

of the birds we were seeing.

And then the birds came down to meet us,

four feet above our heads,

close enough to see the rings around their eyes,

close enough to see them breathing.

And for one brief moment we sensed

that we were fellow travelers,

that we will always be

on the same journey.

We all went quiet.

Even the birds.

We observed each other.

And then a small rush of wings

carried them into the canopy,

and we were left with our quiet joy

and the sense that everything

will be okay.

Blackburnian Warbler

Prothonotary Warbler

Blue-winged Warbler

Baltimore Oriole

Black-throated Blue Warbler

Nashville Warbler

Black-throated Green Warbler