The Dawn Chorus and Lent

Birds are singing, woods are ringing, with thy praises, blessed King

Lake and mountain, field and fountain, to thy throne their tributes bring

We stepped out onto the deck in the morning gloaming to take in the March full moon, the last of Winter. This week we've been able to see some clear moonsets and sunrises, both reminders that amidst the manifold woes of the world our planetary home still follows its course.

There was an added gift outside at that early hour. The robins were in full voice, the first reminder of what will be the swelling Dawn Chorus. Before long our days will begin with what is often an astonishing choir of birds, although we're told that in many places this remarkable phenonenom is diminishing because the number of songbirds has been drastically reduced. International Dawn Chorus Day isn't until Sunday, May 1st (also Mental Health Sunday)  but for us it was this morning. 

I've invited you to "hear the bird of the Lord" for a few minutes each day during Lent as a spiritual practice, a notion I've pilfered from a pastor in California. We've been attempting to do so day by day, and appreciated the mindfulness of listening to the voices of Creation. 

Yesterday we were at Lodge Point which is part of Sandbanks Provincial Park. Lake Ontario was full of "bergy bits," thousands of chunks of ice, and amidst them were rafts of waterfowl. Our nine-year-old grandson was with us and he got a kick out of using binoculars and for the first time getting how to identify his subject and focus in. I have the excellent Sibley Birds app on my phone, so I could show him the Goldeneyes he was viewing and play their wing whistles and calls. He was delighted to make the connection, which warmed his ol' grandpa's heart. 

We have grown tone-deaf to the songs of the birds, bye and large, and I often wish I was more attuned to these extraordinary creatures. I sense that we have also become increasingly deaf to the Creator, which is a profound hearing loss. 

There is still plenty of time during this Lenten season to listen to the birds. Perhaps we'll also learn to listen to the many other voices of Creation and cherish them as Spring unfolds. 

The old hymn above and below was turfed from newer United Church hymnals because of it's male and monarchial imagery. While I agree with that decision it still stubbornly comes to mind when I hear our avian companions

Waters dancing, sunbeams glancing, Sing thy glory cheerily;

Blossoms breaking, nature waking, Chant thy praises merrily