(Ed. to add: I had a photo I was looking for for this post but stumbled across this one first. When I shot it awhile back, it rather annoyed me that my straight needles in their holder had reflected in the window. And yet. Yesterday, it was striking to me that that reflection looked like the top of one of the Towers, with the needles as the cell-phone antennae that had been on the roof. There/not there, with the peacemaking birds as the intended subject of the picture several months ago.)
Watching the various species that have been coming up to my porch and my birdfeeders the past 17 months, I’ve learned something: each of the territorial types chases after newcomers of their own species. There is plenty of food for all but when the level in the feeder gets low, I seem to get more, not fewer finches, as if suddenly they need to make sure there’s enough for them even if they have to fight to get to it. They often do not all come back after I refill their supply; they just seem to need to know it’s there.
But do the towhees feel threatened by the doves? No. Do the doves feel threatened by the titmice or the adorable little Bewick’s wren that flips itself around by the tail?
No. Even when they eat the same sunflowers or skitter around the same area: they only feel a need to establish dominance over the ones the most like themselves.
We are all most like each other. We need to get to know one another better for the fear of the different, of the unknown, to be replaced by our common human ground. I loved this article (thank you Margo Lynn).
We are better than birds, and it is said that He knows even the sparrow in its fall. And I have to tell you that, outside their native European element, sparrows are absolutely terrible to those around them. But He knows them too.
There are no strangers before God. All He asks is that we live as best we can by love as He freely offers love to us, however we may understand the life He has given us.