That Bird on My Chimney

Oh, that bird on my chimney. Dastardly thing perches itself atop the fireplace vent and tweets and chirps and sings. Its bothersome noise echoes down through the fireplace and into my living room, elbowing itself into my peaceful silence. 

When the television is on, I wonder, why is a bird tweeting in the middle of an operating room scene? What in the world could it be trying to communicate so zealously? And so obnoxiously? No one’s listening anyway, except those of us forced to endure its non-stop chorus like a tortured parent at a fifth-grade choir rehearsal. 

Oh, that bird on my chimney. Lovely thing alights upon my rooftop and sends happy peeps and chirrups down the shaft. It doesn’t know I’m listening, but I hear every sharp and flat it joyfully sings. The first note drops into the silence of my morning like a single raindrop on parched ground. Soon others join it until my thirsty soul drinks in the heavenly music.

I laugh at the way its tweets blend with the scene on the morning news, wondering if, perhaps, there are birds on space stations or inside great cathedrals. My feathered friend has an extensive repertoire, and to my untrained ear, every note is different. 

Its passion is unmistakable, and its determination to sing on is impressive, especially without the sound system or water bottles most singers deem necessary. I never know when one concert will end or the next begin, but, regardless, I stop what I’m doing to listen and marvel. 

Today, a bird is going to land on your chimney. Or a child will knock upon your door. Or a family member will insert themself into your day. How will you view the interruption? 

Your response will make all the difference. 

Choose well.

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