The Robin or the Birdbrain?

By Kally Reynolds

Have you ever heard a curious and reoccurring sound that filled you with foreboding? The first time I heard it I was upstairs in bed, still foggy with fading dreams, only half ready to face the dawn. Thud…..thud….thud….The sound came from downstairs. A few more thuds and then it vanished.

Two hours later the sound started again so I went down to investigate. No luck until I saw a small russet-colored bird with a light fuzzy underbelly fling itself against one of the plate-glass cathedral windows in the living room. On my side of the glass, a ceiling-high ficus tree stood proudly at attention. It was apparently luring the little wren to fly over for a visit….Thud.

To make its next assault, the bird hopped to the edge of the white pine tree on which it perched, getting as close to the glass as possible. Then came its leap of faith. Thud.

Persevering still, the wily wren selected a higher vantage point, and flew toward the ficus tree like a fighter pilot coming in for the kill. Thud….And yet the plucky wren seemed still undeterred. Time after time, the creature chose a new tactic to realize its cherished goal, its deadly dream.

Meanwhile on a budding alder tree nearby, a robin perched, alert and peaceful. Glancing at the wren, it seemed to take in the whole sorry mess, along with the rest of God’s kingdom, before soaring into the spring sky of the sun-drenched morning.

Poor wren. Just because it could not see the glass, the little creature believed that the barrier should not, could not, and therefore did not exist, despite all the painful evidence to the contrary. The wren wanted only what it could not have, and thus could not enjoy what God had given it: wings to fly and a song to sing.

Then I thought again of the robin and it was hard not to compare. While the wren used its God-given wings to whip itself into the window, the robin used its gift of flying to soar into the sky.

The ficus in my living room is 12 feet high and gleams with bushy green leaves that never go out of season. It is tall and beautiful. It is also a fake. Wish I could tell that to the wren.

What is that seemingly clear, open space that we cannot penetrate despite our best efforts? What is the ficus tree that beckons, enticing us on the other side of the glass?

The robin and the wren. Both birds can fly -- yet, one soars and the other acts like a birdbrain. Which one has a song to sing for you?