Right now the sun is brightly shining after yesterday's tremendous blizzard. The prison's grounds are covered with piles of snow. And if not for this being a maximum security correctional facility, it would make the perfect scene for one of those classic Norman Rockwell paintings...
But, best of all, as with most of my mornings, I'm being provided with live entertainment. Because, as is their daily custom, a flock of common sparrows who've made a nest for themselves in a hole along the outer cinder block wall just above my window, have perched themselves on my window's small ledge: This is where they gather almost every morning to chirp and sing to each other.
I am absolutely overjoyed by their company. Usually, from around six to nine o'clock, they will treat me to an array of musical sounds such as shrill whistles, and different pitches of chirps and tweets, to include an assortment of peculiar guttural sounds that, when it is all combined together, produces a sweet chorus that's relaxing to listen to.
So, every morning, after I finished saying my prayers, I would pick up my Bible and begin to read it. And when I do, I'd usually sit up on my bed with my back resting against the wall, while my head is about two or three feet away from the window. Thus I am very close to where the birds are perched. And if my window is open, we could see each other. Surely they're used to me by now. And unless I were to make a sudden move they will stay put and ignore me.
Sometimes I would whistle softly back at them. For a brief second or two, whenever I would do this, they would immediately freeze in place while their little heads would dart back and forth to find out where the sound was coming from. I'm certain, however, that their God-given instincts told them that I am not a threat.
For these sparrows, safety is an issue. They're survivors who've learned to make do with what they have. Therefore they've definitely picked the right place to live and raise a family. Last year, for instance, I watched as a small group of baby sparrows joined their parents on my window's ledge. As they grew, however, it became time for them to leave the nest and make lives of their own.
Fortunately for my friends, their present location has no known predators that I could see. The only exception is a noisy flock of aggressive crows who sometimes visit the courtyard beneath my window in search of discarded pieces of bread tossed out by kindhearted prisoners. On occasion I'd watch as the sparrows and crows took turns chasing each other. Otherwise the sparrows appear safe and happy.
Of course I'd like to believe that these simple creatures somehow know I love them, and that I enjoy their morning performances. I'd like to believe, too, that God sent them to provide me with good music and live entertainment.
D.B.
I am absolutely overjoyed by their company. Usually, from around six to nine o'clock, they will treat me to an array of musical sounds such as shrill whistles, and different pitches of chirps and tweets, to include an assortment of peculiar guttural sounds that, when it is all combined together, produces a sweet chorus that's relaxing to listen to.
So, every morning, after I finished saying my prayers, I would pick up my Bible and begin to read it. And when I do, I'd usually sit up on my bed with my back resting against the wall, while my head is about two or three feet away from the window. Thus I am very close to where the birds are perched. And if my window is open, we could see each other. Surely they're used to me by now. And unless I were to make a sudden move they will stay put and ignore me.
Sometimes I would whistle softly back at them. For a brief second or two, whenever I would do this, they would immediately freeze in place while their little heads would dart back and forth to find out where the sound was coming from. I'm certain, however, that their God-given instincts told them that I am not a threat.
For these sparrows, safety is an issue. They're survivors who've learned to make do with what they have. Therefore they've definitely picked the right place to live and raise a family. Last year, for instance, I watched as a small group of baby sparrows joined their parents on my window's ledge. As they grew, however, it became time for them to leave the nest and make lives of their own.
Fortunately for my friends, their present location has no known predators that I could see. The only exception is a noisy flock of aggressive crows who sometimes visit the courtyard beneath my window in search of discarded pieces of bread tossed out by kindhearted prisoners. On occasion I'd watch as the sparrows and crows took turns chasing each other. Otherwise the sparrows appear safe and happy.
Of course I'd like to believe that these simple creatures somehow know I love them, and that I enjoy their morning performances. I'd like to believe, too, that God sent them to provide me with good music and live entertainment.
D.B.
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