Feathered Blessings

My sick bed – where I was confined for three years – was on the main floor, with a window at my feet. Just outside, my husband installed bird feeders – a condominium of choices to draw feathered friends.

Now, I am able to get outside, and commune with the birds in their own settings, but still, two feeders hang outside the window, and I love to sit on the porch and watch as sparrows and finches vie for a perch.

Feathered blessings never get old.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

6 thoughts on “Feathered Blessings

  1. I love that “feathered blessings never get old”, so true. I was sad when I had to stop feeding the birds, as it brought an extended family of mice, fortunately, they like the plants in the yard, and still visit.

    Liked by 1 person

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