“Did you hear?” Todd asked. “The birds are back.”
We were having coffee in the space that has now become our home office. The lines between the two—work and home—have blurred beyond belief and I’m not experienced at this.
Two days of working from home, I have experienced a new kind of exhaustion. I don’t yet know how to structure things. Everyone’s calls and emails were flying at me at once. They all needed careful answers. I’ve spent two days writing more emails than I usually write in a week or more. Days like the last two could do me in faster than a disease, I believe. So I’m working on that. Maybe turn off my email notifications? But what if someone really needs me…? That’s ridiculous. They can call. I’ll set that rule. If you need an answer in less than two hours, call me. I’ll check my email every two hours…
“I heard them this morning,” I said to Todd. “They started singing at 6:00 am.”
“They’re making a lot of noise. Finches. Is that what we have?” He said.
I think for a minute. “Finches are yellow, right?” I wouldn’t recognize a Finch song. I listened to yellow birds on our trip last week but I was told by our bird expert friend that those birds were orioles.
“The one you like that makes that sound.” Todd said.
I whistle the call. I knew what he was referring to. The black-capped chickadee. I whistle again and I realize it’s the whistle my mom always did when she was calling us. I had never made the connection before but that might explain why the chickadee has always been my favorite bird. I whistle once again, like I used to whistle back to my mother. Like my son whistles back to me now.
It’s Love’s whistle.
Now every time I here a chickadee, I’ll think God is calling, ‘Where are you? I’m looking for you. I love you.’
Do you hear the call?