A Little Birdie Told Me

A little birdie told me . . . it’s spring.

Though Mother Nature is fighting it . . . it is spring.  The “signs” have all been there for a couple of weeks despite the alternating winter/spring weather duking it out.  Yes, it is Montana where the weather can change by the minute, but nature has been trying to tell us . . . it is spring.  We just need to listen better.

 

In his book, Voices in the Stones: Life Lessons from the Native Way, Kent Nerburn shares a story about an encounter he has with an elderly Native American man at a little café on a reservation on a North Dakota reservation.  The two of them talked and the conversation meandered into the topic of the “old ways” of life and how they had been taken from the Native Americans by the predominant “white society”.  The man shared a story about how in the “old ways” it was understood that the spirit of life flowed through everything . . . that all things were of a kindred spirit . . . that there was a relationship between all things.  Now they were gone.

 

The story as he told it:

“Things have really changed,” he went on.  “The old ways—the way I was raised—they’re gone now.  They took them away from us.”

 

He looked away and stared into the distance.  I had touched something deep in him.

 

“My grandma,” he said, “she could talk to the animals.  She liked to hang clothes out on the line, stand out in the sun and the wind.  She used to talk to the meadowlarks.  They would sit on the fence posts, and she would sometimes laugh and say things to them.

 

“I remember one day she got angry and threw a rock at one of them.  I heard her scolding it as it flew away.  A little neighbor girl died the next day.  Grandma must not have liked what the meadowlark had to say.”

 

He took a sip of his coffee and gazed past me almost as if I wasn’t there.  “I guess we forgot their language.  Or maybe they just don’t want to talk to us now.” (Voices in the Stones: Life Lessons from the Native Way, Ken Nerburn, 2016)  

 

All creation stories are different from culture to culture.  At the same time, they all have the same theme.  As I understand it, in the beginning God created the heavens, earth, and all that inhabit it.  Upon completion God declared that it was all good.  That it was God’s creativity and breath that set it all into motion.  That creativity and breath linked it all together.  It is all the essence and presence of God. 

 

Luther Standing Bear, the great Lakota chief, said: “From . . . from the Great Spirit there came a great unifying life force that flowed in and through all things—the flowers of the plains, the blowing winds, rocks, trees, bird, animals—and was the same force that had been breathed into the first man.  Thus all things were kindred and were brought together by the same Great Mystery.”

 

I think that we have forgotten.  We are a part of creation . . . we are not the creation itself.  The world does not revolve around us, but that we are piece of the puzzle we call creation.  All of it together makes a whole and makes it holy. 

 

As I read Nerburn’s story of the old man’s grandmother, I could not help but to be jarred by his closing statement: “I guess we forgot their language.  Or maybe they just don’t want to talk to us now.”  There is no doubt in my mind that we humans are a forgetful group—history verifies that for us as we continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.  What concerns me is that “they just don’t want to talk to us now.”  To me that signals that the relationship has been broken . . . that it has become too strained to sustain . . . that we blew it.

 

I love the outdoors.  Montana was always the ultimate embodiment of the “great outdoors” for me.  It was a big part of the underlying desire to move and live in Montana . . . that and the fact that there are only about six people per square mile.  An introvert’s wildest dream!  When I am outdoors, I feel the most connected to the holy . . . to the Creator . . . to God.  I also believe that I have a relationship with the outdoors and all of nature . . . that I have something to learn, to gain, to allow myself to grow and understand about all of creation.  I believe that we humans are intimately connected to creation—to nature, and that it has something to teach us about life.  Humans are not the “end all”.  Creation was around long before we humans showed up and was going quite well without us.  I believe that this relationship is necessary if we humans are to be fully who we have been created to be.  We are called to be “one” as Creation.

 

Thus, it saddens me to see the great disconnect.  Have we forgotten the language?  Probably.  Has creation decided it no longer wants to communicate—to talk—with us?  Again, probably.

 

I am no Dr. Dolittle.  I cannot talk to the animals . . . well, partially.  I think that my dogs understand me.  We talk.  I am greeted each evening with “aroooooo” from Birdie, our Borgie (Border Collie/Corgi mix).  She understands when I tell her to get certain toys, much to the amazement of my wife.  She communicates to me when she wants to go for a walk.  She sits at my feet and stares me down.  It is a stare that tells me, “Walk me!”  Quinn, the mini-wiener dog, has conversations with me all of the time.  She is not timid in letting me know that she is ready to eat or that she wants to go out.  She barks at me until I move.  I talk to her, and she barks.  It is often an enlightening conversation for me.  There is a relationship.  One I am thankful for because my pups take me for who I am.  There is definite communication there. 

 

I guess it would be nice to be Dr. Dolittle and have the ability to speak to the animals.  But the truth is . . . the critters are always talking to us if we are listening.  As we transition from winter to spring, it is the animals that convey the message that “spring is here!”  For me, the message is delivered by the aves or birds.  When I see the first Mountain Bluebird flitting around.  When the Sandhill Cranes start showing up in the fields.  When the first Osprey is perched on its nest.  They are telling me that spring is here.  The return of the Red-winged Blackbird. There is the first skunk in the yard.  The racoons start hitting the birdfeeders.  The bears wake up and make their presence known.  All convey the message that spring is here.  They are communicating . . . are we listening?

 

The rest of nature is talking too . . . maybe a little prematurely.  But that seems to be the case each year.  The grass in the yard is greening and growing.  Flowers and herbs are sprouting up.  Some trees are even getting buds.  The bugs have started showing up and making their presence as splatters on the windshield.  And the weeds.  I have seen the tell-tale signs of my neighbor’s angst sprouting in the mud . . . dandelions.  Nature is talking . . . are we listening?

 

I’ve heard people here and there comment about the fact that it seems that spring is coming earlier each year.  Screwy weather, they say.  They are right.  It is screwy weather, but it is also a definite message being sent if we are listening.  I blame it on climate change even though such a response typically gets me labeled as a “liberal tree hugger” by everyone else.  Looking at the craziness of the last decade’s weather and its severity    across the globe . . . creation is speaking and speaking with urgency. 

 

Way back in my teen years I remember the big push for ecology and things like “Earth Day”.  I remember commercials with Iron Eyes Cody—the Sicilian actor who made his career playing a Native American—as he paddled his canoe down a polluted river and shedding a tear.  Or the commercial of the grandpa walking his grandson along a trashed beach and having the questioned posed, “Is this what we are leaving our grandchildren?”  Creation . . . nature . . . was knocking on the door attempting to get our attention about the crappy stewardship of the planet we were practicing.  Now Creation is slapping us in the face to get our attention.  But are we listening?

 

Probably not.  Even if we were, I imagine it is with acute selective hearing.   We only hear and see what is advantageous to us. 

 

You see there are two sides to the story . . . at least for those who are going to base the story on the holy writ of their Christian faith.  In the Book of Genesis there are two creation stories.  There is the calendar story of the Creator creating something and declaring it a day and that “it is good”.  In that story the emphasis is on humanity having dominion over creation.  In the second story we get a folksier tale.  It is the Adam and Eve story.  Again, the Creator creates, but this time there is a different charge to the humans . . . be good stewards of creation.  One story emphasizes dominion over creation while the other speaks of stewardship—of relating to creation and taking care of it for the benefit of all.  Ever since people have taken one side or the other with everything in-between.

 

Dominion has won out most often.  That dominion has created the mess we are living in today . . . and it is a mess.  I’m no scientist, but I know that the average temperature has gotten warmer each year.  The weather patterns have shifted.  The storms are more severe.  Humans are gobbling up more and more of the earth.  We are dumping more and more pollutants into the air, water, and soil.  It is screwing things up.  The critters have been trying to tell us.  Nature has been trying to tell us.  The Creator . . . God . . . or whatever spark of the Holy that guides your life, has been attempting to tell us.

But we don’t hear . . . or we don’t listen.

 

As the old man said, “I guess we forgot their language.  Or maybe they just don’t want to talk to us now.”  Though he was lamenting the near genocide of his culture and its ways, there is a movement of recovery of those cultures and ways.  It is coming back slowly and can succeed if the dominant culture doesn’t bring down its iron fist of dominion.  It is up to the dominant culture to decide.  There is still time.  There is still time to learn the language.  Still time to listen.  Still time to change our ways.  Still time to embrace Creation, be good stewards, and live in harmony. 

 

We begin by listening.  I know it is true because a little birdie told me.  The question is . . . are you listening?