When the Homily is about Immunology

Singing Birds

It was an especially small crowd during Vespers. As what few of us were there in the choir were singing, I noticed that outside the open front window of our business park temple, a bird was singing along.

I cannot identify birds from their songs, but whatever this fellow was, he had quite a voice, and quite a variety of tunes to choose from. He was out there for nearly the entire service and at one point became so loud (at least in my ears) that I found myself consistently stumbling about as I chanted the reader's verses. It even began to annoy me a bit because no matter what I did I could not stop hearing the bird, though it didn't seem to even be noticed by anyone else.

The next day after Sue milked the goat and she and the human kids were heading inside to begin the bedtime ritual, I paused for awhile out by what I can now officially call - without reservation - "THE BARN" and looked around. The chickens were busily digging into and nearly leveling a large mound with all the efficiency of a mechanized work crew at a quarry, seeking out all manner of grubs and worms. Firefly and Butter (the goats) were meandering in front of the barn foraging through the various grasses and clover and what not. Killick was sitting regally nearby and guarding them all while perhaps making fantasy dinner plans.

Still much to be done, I thought to myself as I looked around: the unchopped wood in the woodshed, the unfinished guest house, the remainder of what city folk call "lawn" that needs to be tore up, tilled, and planted, some landscaping changes to create a better path for drainage in front of the barn and through the chicken run, more logs to haul in from the east end of the property, a new chicken run and coop for our expansion flock, a fire pit and some benches to build, and the list likely goes on and on.

I don't know if I'm really an agrarian or not, but I do know that a man feels a certain satisfaction in working his land. Watching the weather and hoping, REALLY HOPING, for sun so that I can get out there and sweat is something I cannot really ever recall feeling. So, I'll admit to leaning a little on the large metal gate in front of the barn and feeling pretty darn good about life. I think you need to cherish those little moments, and as I turned to go inside (the bother of the bugs had exceeded my satisfaction in "taking in my land") I noticed I could hear that same type of bird singing away in one of the cedars next to the house. I never did get a look at it.

Oh yeah..inside I recalled the new flooring for the bathroom needs to be installed. As I said, the list never ends. But that's okay.