Bluebirds

Several weeks ago, a friend gave my husband and me a bluebird house made of cedar. He fastened it to a post in our backyard. 

One recent afternoon when I paused to look in that direction, I saw a bluebird fluttering around the opening and then alighting on the top of the post. 

I hurried to tell my husband what I'd seen. He grinned. "I guess that means you want me to remove a window screen?"

I nodded, eager to start photographing the goings on at the nest. As I stood near the open window and photographed with my mirrorless camera that has a zoom lens, I thought about Mr. Al Larson. He has loved bluebirds for many years. (And, thankfully, God has given him many years to enjoy them--101 years, as of March 26.)  Through the years, Mr. Larson has built and placed hundreds of nesting boxes for the bluebirds. (For more details about this dear man, affectionately called, "The Birdman of Idaho," read this post I wrote in March 2021).

Since I've never had the pleasure of speaking with Mr. Larson, I'm not sure how he came to love them, but he definitely does. I assume the sight of a bluebird enthralls him, as it does others (including me). 

I'm awed by their beauty and by how focused they are on nest building. (See the photo of one of my new neighbors with a bit of nesting material in her mouth.) In the next few weeks, I hope to photograph the faithful parents going in and out of the nest to deliver bugs and worms to their little ones.

As I observe my new neighbors and learn life lessons from them, I'm sure I'll think again and again about an ancient hymn* that says, in part: 

All creatures of our God and King, 

Lift up your voice and with us sing, 

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Indeed, our awesome Creator and Sustainer is worthy of our praise.

*written by St. Francis of Assisi (1225) and translated by William H. Draper