tweeting

Blackbird Chicks In NestMany years ago a chick in a nest noticed something. At the end of every day it got dark. But every morning, after the chick had started tweeting that it was hungry (through its beak not the microblogging site) the sky grew lighter and eventually the day arrived.

The chick was fascinated by this. Every morning it would tweet its little heart out and every morning the sun would rise. The chick told its siblings and encouraged them to tweet too – to ensure that the sun returned each day.

Chicks in other nests started to complain about being woken up so early by all the tweeting, but when the first chick explained that it was their tweeting that guaranteed that the sun would come back they joined in too.

Once the chicks had fledged and left the nests they all continued the tradition because they didn’t want to risk the sun not coming up. Everywhere they went they told other birds about it and the news spread far and wide. Migrating birds took the news to other continents and it was not long before birds all across the world knew that their tweeting in the morning was what guaranteed that the sun would come up.

Each new generation of birds was told that their tweeting in the morning awoke the sun from its slumber and each new generation of birds tweeted their hearts out each day. They believed that they were making a difference to the whole world – this was their contribution to life.

Different birds tried to outdo each other with the length, volume, quality and variety of their morning tweeting. Over time the real reason for the morning tweeting became less important than the tweeting itself. When asked why they tweeted in the morning they just shrugged their wings and admitted that they didn’t know why they did it – it was what birds did, wasn’t it?

Today, all across the world, birds tweet each morning. Many of them actually don’t start tweeting until the dawn has started to arrive, the sky has started to lighten and the sun has started to peek over the horizon. But that doesn’t matter to them. What matters is that they tweet because that’s what they do in the morning, isn’t it?

Do we ever stop to ask ourselves why we do what we do? We do it because we have always done it. We do it like that because we have always done it that way. We do it because we don’t know any different. We do it because that’s what we do.

Tweet, tweet, tweet.

Be blessed, be a blessing.

(It’s been said that when Jesus returns the last seven words heard (uttered by Christians) will be, “We’ve never done it that way before!”)

a propos of almost nothing

This is mostly a selection of musings from the unfathomed depths of my consciousness.

Have a look at the bloggage I wrote on 23rd January. You can follow a link to it here. In particular have a look at the photo, and then compare it to this one. What’s different?

2015-02-05 11.51.56You may not be able to see very clearly, but keep looking. Something is different. It’s not the number of birds, although that is technically a difference.

There is one bird that is out of place.

The one perched on the roof ridge is a seagull not a pigeon or dove.

My daftness made me wonder why it is there. Does it want to join the club? Does it think that because there is a crowd something good must be going on so it’s joining in? Does it have aspirations to be a pigeon or a dove? Is it spying on them ready for a seagull takeover? Or was it just resting there en route to the nearest sea / refuse site?

Of course some of you may be wondering why I seem to be spending all my time watching the roof of a nearby house! It’s a house we can see from the kitchen windows of our house so I observe it naturally when washing up or making a cup of coffee (I will let you decide which I do more frequently!).

And in answer to the question I posed in my former bloggage about the birds on the roof, when we had a recent dusting of snow it disappeared from that roof before those around it, suggesting that the tiles are warmer and probably an indication that the insulation needs improving. I wonder whether insulation sellers go around after it has snowed looking for those sorts of house – it would make a strong visual selling point. [note to self if I ever become an insulation salesperson, check out house roofs when it has snowed]

And if you can apply any of that to yourself, brilliant, if not I hope you enjoyed a brief foray into the impenetrable jungle that is my mind – this was written yesterday and scheduled for today because today I am going to enjoy a day off.

Be blessed, be a blessing