Birds

It has been a long time since I sat at my computer and composed a blog post.  Eleven days in fact.  I've been traveling, and on vacation, and really never sat down at my computer for very long.  I read and crocheted more than anything else when I wasn't out and enjoying our annual visit to Cruisin' the Coast.

There were a number of significant news stories during the eleven days since I last posted, but since my purpose in starting and continuing this blog was to offer inspiration and encouragement, I'm going to leave those news stories alone.

Instead, I'm going to talk about something I observed on a daily walk with my husband across the bridge that links Biloxi, Mississippi with Ocean Springs, Mississippi.

As you cross the bridge, you are actually crossing over Biloxi Bay, but you can see out into the Gulf of Mexico.  The bridge was built after Hurricane Katrina, and includes a wide walking, running, biking path which is separated from the six driving lanes, three in each direction.  The bridge is truly a beautiful structure, soaring high above the bay to allow for the passage of marine vessels underneath.

Also under the bridge lining the shore are piers.  There are piers populated with boats in marinas, there is a dedicated fishing pier, and there are some abandoned piers that were useful at one time, but now exist in different states of disrepair.

It was one of these abandoned piers that caught my attention.  It was covered with birds.  All water birds, but birds of all kinds.  There were sea gulls, and tern, and puldo and pelicans and other birds I don't know the names of.

And they were all hanging out together on the pier, soaking in the sun.  All those different birds, and not assembled by type.  Just mixed up and peacefully hanging out.

And I thought "Why can't humans be that way?  Just hang out together in the sun and not be so hateful to those who are different from us?"  And I thought about it a lot.

And I realized something important.  Those birds all peacefully coexist because there is enough for everyone.  There is plenty of food.  The big bridge and the superstructure of the bridge provide plenty of shelter.  The area is relatively free of predators. Peaceful coexistence is easier when everyone has everything they need.

And that is where humans often fail.  It is so hard for humans to be happy with what they have, even if it is all they need.  It seems hard wired into some humans to always want more, and to always want what someone else has.

I found myself falling into that trap as the week went on.  Coveting certain beautiful cars, thinking that life must be perfect if you live in one of those big beautiful houses facing the Gulf of Mexico.  Falling into the trap of thinking happiness is related to having more.

And then I thought of those birds.  They all seemed to be enjoying life.  They weren't fighting.  They weren't striving.  They were just enjoying the beauty of the planet, in the warm sun with a full belly.

And I thought about how lucky I am, in that I have everything I need, and a lot of things I want.  I was delighted to come home to my house, and sleep in my bed, and sit in my backyard.  I was thrilled to pick my dogs up from arguably the best doggie day care in the world (Puppy Love Nola), and to eat at the great new restaurant in my neighborhood, Station 6.

And I thought about those birds again.  The secret of life is being happy with what you have.  In appreciating the simple everyday joys.  In reflecting on the people that you love and have loved, and cherishing the memories that you have of simple everyday joys with loved ones.

You can always want more.  There is always someone or something to disagree about.  But you can always be grateful for what you have.  And you can always try to find common ground.  Or at least you can peacefully coexist in silence in the warm sun.

And maybe one of the greatest gifts of vacation is how good it feels to come home again.  I loved my time at the family wedding in New Jersey, and at Cruisin' the Coast.  But I also loved waking up in the middle of the night last night in my own bed, with my husband and my two dogs close by.

And today my husband and I will walk with the dogs, and Scarlett will bark at the birds, and Beaux will stop and roll over numerous times, and I will forget to be aggravated with them because I missed them so much while we were away.

And before too many days pass, I'll get aggravated again.  But I'm going to try really hard not to.  Because even the little aggravations are what we miss when the living creatures who share our lives pass on to another plane.

I'm going to try to remember the birds.  To strive for peaceful coexistence, with gratitude for food and shelter, and the ability to appreciate basking in the warm sunshine.