Posted 6:17 PM by Luke
"Midwinter spring is its own season...."

As I bounded across the pavement, I had been thinking about how motionless and smooth the air was for this first day of February. Everything about the atmosphere felt out of place. The air went down easy, without the bite typical of this time of year. My lungs ebbed and flowed without the usual sharp tingle that the winter air of the Midwest brought. It was Spring's first tease of the year, one that would make April a more pressing thought that it was last week, when all anyone wanted was the ability to go outside without the full trappings of an eskimo. Now I was clothed as much in the blanket of my surroundings as in man-made materials from various locations around the world. Despite my love of four distinct seasons, I thought, running would be a much less arduous task if this wonderful calm were and everyday thing. I kept a comfortable rythm as I made my way down College Avenue.

It was then that two beautiful red birds -- maybe they were Cardinals or Robins, I'm not sure -- swooped in from my left. It looked as though they might have been fooled by the premature weather, having begun the usual Spring chase a few months early. Or maybe they knew it was just a joke and wanted to take advantage of that subtle hint of life before winter descended with her death grip again. Either way, they were caught in the moment. They flew by me quickly, but I locked them in my sight to watch as they passed. The moment slowed down enough for me to feel the excitement of the chase for that second. Before I had a chance to absorb the rythm of nature that I was witnessing, I lost sight of the birds as they blended with the traffic on College. I looked away for a second, thinking they had just vanished behind the cars. I questioned that thought, however, and looked back to my right to see a thin cloud of red feathers hovering in a whilrwind over the street. Below them laid the lump that seconds before has been full of vigorous energy and excitement. The other bird was nowhere in sight.

I felt a wave of melancholy wash over me as I continued running. My thoughts became jumbled and confused, and for a moment I felt a strange disconnection from what I had just seen. I turned around at the next corner and ran back toward the scene. The bird's body laid there, completely lifeless and unspectacular. Later I would think about the dry, dead trees that gave a backdrop to the horrible scene. They stood there in the same unspectacular, lifeless stillness as the bird, yet months before, their grandeur and vibrancy had been evident also, and so it would be again months later.

I didn't stop running, and a few black and red feathers still hovered over my head as I continued along. The last remnants of the bird's life whirled and descended slowly toward earth, prepared to return to the dust from which they came. The bird had set out to enjoy the unseasonal air, never knowing that would bring the end here. It was a painful thought, made even more so when I thought about the mate. Would it feel the same cutting loss I would if I were in its place? I suppose a bird's thoughts are only for God to know. And with that, a Scripture came to mind:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."--Matthew 10:29-31