The Lord God Bird and Creation Gratitude

                              Pileated Woodpecker in flight

In the midst of self-isolation, with only occasional forays for groceries, we are giving thanks for our health, the health of our family, and the security of our home. We haven't started swinging cats yet, but if we were so inclined we would have plenty of room to do so, both inside our house and in our expansive yard.

Last evening I was "down" just the same. There was an a red alert on my weather app from the Ontario government which seemed to direct me to stay home except for those groceries and other essentials. Did this mean we were prohibited from heading out for walks, and cycles, and paddles? When we do go out we choose times when we are less likely to encounter others and we ensure the two metre/six feet distance.

Yesterday we drove to the Salmon River, north of Napanee, and spent two hours in splendid isolation, at least from humans. The water was as calm as we've ever experienced on this stretch and there were virtually no human-made sounds. We actually paid closer attention to the surface of the water than the trees lining the river because of the reflections. 

While many creatures haven't returned or awakened yet the robins and red-winged blackbirds were in full voice. We saw and heard our first kingfisher of the season, as well as a Pileated woodpecker. 

I read recently that this largest woodpecker in North American forests 9crow-sized) has traditionally been called the Lord God bird because when people see it in flight they exclaim "Lord God!" This struck me because we have seen or heard several in recent weeks and for me they represent the Holy Spirit more strongly than a dove. They have been hopeful signs in Creation.

When we were cycling along the Bay of Quinte this morning I stopped to ask two policemen if its still okay to be out as we were. They assured me if was still permissible even though provincial parks are closed. My spirit lifted as this news. As we cycled we saw an osprey nest and a fox ran across the path. When I whistled it stopped and returned toward us, seemingly curious. 

In the midst of so much gloomy news, each time we are in nature we experience a "Lord God!' moment, and I am grateful.