A Walk in the Woods after a Fresh Snow

There is a deep sense of untainted wilderness
                                                    when walking in the woods after a fresh snow.
Barren boughs stretch to the heavens,
                                         which answers with an affable yet penetrating breeze.

Limbs oppressed by mounting snow burden 

                        evergreens to gracefully bow.

The snow drifts are like a Winter amphitheater for the distant chatter of birds Autumn

                                                  has left behind.

 

Hedge branches pervade a pristine 

                                                trail, 

outstretched as if to greet me.

A secluded hollow summons my 
soul to rest within her soft, 
                              snowy embrace.

A resting pause, a calm invitation, a moment’s portion 

                                                              is my only payment –

for I must endure through this snow-banked trail 

                                               to gently touch its supernal end.

Where the eastward breeze shall lose her bite, 

                                              snow surrenders into tiny droplets.

Then Winter's ethereal beauty shades Spring no longer, 

                                                        hope will birth Dawn eternal.

Northern Mockingbird

The Northern Mockingbird is very common in Kentucky, and the mockingbird has come to symbolize everything from human innocence in Harper Lee's novel To Kill A Mockingbird to a bribe to get a crying baby to quiet down in the lullaby Hush Little Baby. Northern Mockingbirds have been recorded to have had hundreds of various songs covering anything from other birds, insects, even car alarms. Despite Harper Lee's portrayal of mockingbirds as symbolizing innocence, mockingbirds are fiercely territorial, attacking most anything including humans to maintain dominion in the region around their nests. As much as I enjoy listening to mockingbirds, I tend to see them to symbolize a loss of identity. Mockingbirds have many calls, and parrot the songs and noises in their environment accurately enough that other bird species believe the song is of another of its kind. Yet, the identity of a mockingbird apart from its mocking is lost. The mockingbird sings the songs of others, yet has no song of its own.

Killdeer

Perhaps you have seen them, but more likely you have heard their call. The Killdeer is a type of plover with a loud and continuous caw that sounds like a high pitched "Kill-DEE" (hence, where this bird gets its name). You may find this bird walking around cattle farms or large parking lots with grassy islands in which to lay their eggs. They are quite abundant in Kentucky.
This Killdeer to the left is a mother protecting her eggs (bottom right of the photograph) which she laid in a grassy island in the rear parking lot of Oxmoor Mall in Louisville, KY. She spreads out and chirps loudly to warn me that I am getting too close. Afterwards, she limped and fluttered her wings as if one was broken, quickly moving away from her nest. This was an act called the "broken wing act," a distraction display for birds protecting their young.
I heard quite a few Killdeer in cattle fields that surround my house this past spring. They fly erratically constantly chirping as if in distress. An interesting behavior to note is their fast paced walk through fields. They walk quickly, occasionally  stopping and looking back. God created this bird with long legs, much like any shore bird. Their quickness through fields makes bugs jump, then with good vision are able to spot bugs when they stop and look back. The Killdeer is a good bug hunter, and a rare type of shore bird that reaches the interior of the U.S.

Eastern Towhee

 A pleasant afternoon walk in the deep woods along a creek on a sunny, cloudless day was just what I needed to clear my mind. God has taught me quite a bit as of late about busyness and the constant noise of modern technology that my mind has grown accustomed to and dependent upon. God has been only a part of the noise, and His jealousy and my compartmentalizing Him drew me to the woods. Along the walk, I heard a a distinctive song coming from the trees. Tchew-heee! The winter barren tree branches just starting to bud were still clear enough to see the Eastern Towhee. I continued walking, and he continued to fly from tree to tree as if to follow. He puffed up to show off his colors, then continued in song.

Evolutionary scientists tell us that the birds' songs and color are purely for function; to attract mates, to warn off predators, and to communicate during lookout. I have curiosity to such a blanket assumption. When I took these shots, my mind filled with wander to cry "who gave your song, and who painted your feathers?" When we hear a beautiful song, or see beautiful colors,
we go beyond function. Our eyes and ears glorify our Creator. Our sensory organs sense our creative Creator. God did not create purely out of function, and perhaps His common grace allows for a common recognition of beauty. God's saving grace permits our new eyes to recognize the beauty of the Creator.