I have heard the story of the guy who
prayed to God to teach him patience. In
return the individual received into his life situations . . . frustrating
situations that tested his patience . . . over and over again. God was teaching the man what he wanted—patience. God seems to have a wicked sense of
humor. Ever since I heard that story I
have made sure that I never prayed to God for patience.
But God seems to have a unique way in
teaching us lessons.
One of the hobbies that the wife and I
have engaged in is bird feeding. We have
various bird feeders throughout the yard to supply the “least of these”
creatures with food throughout the year—especially the winter. And, for our efforts we have been blessed
with a huge variety of birds gracing our feeders: Lazuli Buntings, the Gray
Catbird, Black-capped and Mountain Chickadees, Red Crossbills, Mourning Doves,
Cassin’s Finch, Northern Flickers, Goldfinch, Common Gackles, Evening
Grosbeaks, a Loggerhead Shrike, Dark-eyed Junco, Magpies, Clark’s Nutcracker,
Red and White-breasted Nuthatches, Bullock’s Orioles, Robins, Gray-crowned
Rosy-Finch, Chipping Sparrows, House Sparrows, European Starlings, Western
Tangers, Downy Woodpeckers, Hairy Woodpeckers, and the Pinyon Jay. I must admit that I enjoy our hobby, and I
especially enjoy the way that it feeds into my other hobby of photography. Over the years the gathering of the flocks
has provided me with a bevy of wonderful pictures of some of the most beautiful
creations I have ever seen. For the most
part it has been a blessing.
I say, “for the most part”, because of
one flock of birds that seems to have created a major frustration in our bird
feeding hobby . . . and that bird is the Pinyon Jay (pictured above). The Pinyon Jay is a pretty bird with a
blue-gray coloring and it takes wonderful photographs. God did some pretty fine handiwork with the
Pinyon Jay, but . . . yeah, I know, God doesn’t like us using the “but”
argument . . . BUT, the Pinyon Jay is the most gluttonous bird I have ever
encountered . . . they are the bird version of the Hell’s Angels the way that
they come flying in and making waste to whatever feeder they are at . . . they
have no respect for any other of the winged creatures of God’s hand, often
bullying the smaller and more timid birds away from the feeders so that they
can bring a feeding frenzy upon the feeders.
Pinyon Jays are a “flock” bird.
By that I mean that they mate up and run around in flocks of about fifty
pairings . . . or a hundred birds. In
the winter the flocks come together and create communities of up to 300
birds. There is power in numbers and the
Pinyon Jays often have the numbers.
Pinyon Jays also eat anything and
everything that is in a bird feeder . . . they have never found a meal that
they didn’t like. They can empty out
several bird feeders in minutes and have the gall to sit there and demand
more. All the while the other birds go
hungry. I wish that they could be like
the other birds that frequent the feeders by showing a little respect, sharing
the feed, and taking turns . . . but, NO!
They have embraced the seventh deadly sin—gluttony—and made it their
own.
Pinyon Jays make me mad. Pinyon Jays have driven to the edge of hatred
. . . hatred of them. In the beginning I
took the philosophical route . . . the so-called “Christian” route . . . that
believed that God created all these wonderful creatures—these birds—and that
they all need to eat . . . so, let them eat.
That sucked. Pinyon Jays don’t
know when to quit eating . . . so they bully the other birds by sheer numbers
and they whip through a fifty-pound bag of sunflower seeds in less than a
week. They would make any major league
baseball team look like rookies when it comes to sunflower seeds. Sunflower seeds are like crack to Pinyon
Jays. And, sunflower seeds are not
cheap. So, their behavior is not the
only hurting me, but it is affecting my wallet.
I get a little touchy when any of God’s creatures start messing with my
wallet. The heck with let the birds
eat! Heck with letting all of God’s
creatures eat! I say, shoot ‘em!
Despite our frustration with the
Pinyon Jays, the wife won’t let me shoot them.
I can throw a rock in their direction to scare them . . . or slam the
door to scare them . . . or run outside like a screaming lunatic (which has
worked at keeping the neighbors away, but has had no effect on the Pinyon Jays)
. . . but, not only are the Pinyon Jays gluttonous, they are smart. They have a system. While the mass of the Pinyon Jays descend upon
the feeders, they stake out the area with scouts . . . scouts that warn the
flock of impending danger . . . and, scouts that let them know that the coast
is clear. Unless one has an hour to kill
it is almost a worthless endeavor to try and scare the Pinyon Jays away . . .
there are too many of them. They
out-number you . . . and, they are more patient. As pretty as they are . . . they have brought
me close to the edge of hatred.
Hate is a powerful word . . . one that
the wife and I taught our children as unacceptable in relationships and in life
. . . but, here I am on the brink of hatred . . . and, I am wondering what in
the world God is trying to teach me. The
Pinyon Jays . . . despite the words of bird experts in the big city promising
us that they will go away . . . will not go away. They mock me.
I have tried the philosophical route . . . the Christian route . . . the
Zen route . . . the bird lover’s route . . . I have tried to ignore them . . .
we have removed the feeders and bought feeders that they are not supposed to be
able to get into . . . and, they keep coming.
Nothing works! What . . . what is
God trying to teach me!
This brings me to the second “for the
most part” . . . the neighbor’s cat. We
never imagined that our “bird feeders” would become “cat feeders” . . . but,
since the neighbors move in about half-a-year ago, we have made a regular
buffet of select birds for their cat. I
imagine that the neighbor’s cat thought it had died and gone to heaven when it
moved in next door to us . . . birds for the choosing with little or no
effort. At least once a week there is a
pile of feathers in our yards marking the demise of another bird thanks to the
cat. But, I have to admit; at least the
cat is an equal opportunity killer and has no trouble with killing any bird
that makes itself available for a snack.
The neighbor’s response? That is what cats do . . . they kill things
like birds and mice. It is a part of
their DNA. The killing is scaring off
the birds . . . and, this is frustrating.
It is especially frustrating when the cat comes and lies at the food of
the feeders in wait . . . it is amazing how poorly birds see and never see that
cat until it is too late. I have gone
several routes with the cat . . . I have scared the cat off . . . I have thrown
rocks at the cat to scare it off . . . yelled, screamed, and chased it (darn
cat is fast) . . . and yet, it continues to kill. Like the Pinyon Jays, I am closing in on
hating that cat.
So, what is God trying to teach
me? What is the lesson God wants me to
learn?
Is God attempting to teach me about
the circle of life? Is God attempting to
teach me patience? Is God trying to show
me that all God’s critters got a place in the world? That maybe the wife and I should give up bird
feeding as a hobby and take up something more constructive like planting a rock
garden? I don’t know . . .
Or, is God giving me a solution
through the two frustrations . . . through the Pinyon Jays and the cat. It has dawned on me that if I could only
catch the cat . . . keep the cat for a few days . . . and train it. Train it to kill Pinyon Jays. That way I could kill two birds with one
stone. The problem would be solved. All the other birds would have plenty to eat
without having to worry about being bullied, and the cat would have its game
and food. There are plenty of Pinyon
Jays to go around. The wife and I would
no longer be on the brink of hatred or frustration . . . and, we could hang
onto our good “Christian” values . . . we could save face.
The only problem is . . . I can’t
catch the stupid cat. It is scared of
me, but not of the birds. Plus, the
Pinyon Jays are too smart . . . remember, they have scouts watching out for
each other. The cat would never have a
chance . . . besides, one cat against hundreds of Pinyon Jays would probably resemble
something out of Alfred Hitchcock’s The
Birds.
In the meantime, I guess I will
continue to ponder what the lesson is that God is attempting to teach me. I will shoo the Pinyon Jays away only to know
that they will return. I will shoo the
cat away only to know that the cat will kill again and again. I will continue to watch the dollars fly out
of my wallet. And, I will go through my
mind and think . . . think really hard . . . did I ask God to help me with my
Pinyon Jay problem? If so, will God let
me take that prayer back? Darn, maybe I
asked God for patience . . . if so, I hope it comes soon!
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