For the last few years, come springtime, I have had a little visitor oustide my window. RIGHT outside my window. One of my favorite things about my bedroom is the window. There is a wide ledge that I could turn into a window seat except that it's a little too high off the ground and would look strange. Instead my bed is set right against it so that I can lean on a pillow and look outside ever so often as I read. My favorite time to do this is right after I get home from work. The sun is at the perfect spot so that it shines through the tree outside my room and highlights the little fuzzy white things floating around that cause all kinds of allergies. Anyway, it looks beautiful. And the little visitor comes around at this time and I appreciate him. He adds to the moment. I always call these moments "glimpses of Heaven."
But at five o'clock in the morning, we're talkin' a whole different ballgame. At five o'clock in the morning, I can't stand that little bird. I often pray harm on him. I imagine someone marching out of their house and chucking a stone at him. Or you know, I just pray that he will fly away. (I may or may not have yelled at him.)
On Monday morning I was in the midst of the previously described scene when somewhere downstairs I heard a bark. And for a millisecond, the bird stopped. "Chirp chirp chirp TWEET, chirp chirp chirp TWEET, chirp chirp BARK ---- chirp TWEET."
I thought it just might solve everything. Maybe if I invited Tacy onto my bed, she would hear the annoying bird and bark at it and it would fly away. So I called for her. And I got this.
I don't know if you can see this very well. But it's a faceful of slobbery dog. And that's all I got. No bark. No bite. Just dog and bird and no sleep.
On my way to work I stopped by Starbucks to get some oatmeal and there were these cute little birds outside chirping and hopping around and I was thinking of how God even takes care of them and feeds them and their chirping in the morning is probably out of hunger and I felt just a tad...guilty. At least until five o'clock the next morning.