I was over at Kim’s the other night (see previous post Living in an Art Gallery) helping to put dinner together when I looked out the window that is just over the kitchen sink. It’s where Margaret keeps her bird feeder–such a perfect place for viewing. The ground is almost flush with the base of the window so it’s as though the birds are part of the kitchen–a rather large flock of dinner guests. And on this night we were visited by a surprising number of Red-winged Blackbirds. Oh my. I love these birds.
They drop by every day and I’ve come to think of them as black-leather-jacketed street toughs–sort of birdie bad boys. I know that’s not fair. But they’re bigger than the other birds and when they arrive everybody else disappears. The smaller birds do wander back, one by one, and cautiously graze among the Blackbirds.
There is a large flock of these birds at the base of my road where it dips down and runs across a marsh–where cattails stand among fallen down log structures from long ago–a rather lush spot along my road. I’ve always loved watching them fly as I pass by, offering their shocking red patches to my day.
But to have them so close, to watch them like this, feels almost sacred.
Of course Paul McCartney’s wonderful song, Blackbird, comes to mind as I stand within this remarkable gift. Here are the lyrics:
Blackbird
Paul McCartney
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
I have always loved this song but I find it particularly meaningful after having faced my own dark night recently (see previous post Well, Joseph Campbell… ?). The lyric takes us into “the dead of night” and suggests that, in the depth of that dark black night, broken and confused, lies the moment we’ve been waiting for–in the depth of despair, stripped down to nothing, we find our “moment to arise.”
I have particularly loved the song’s chorus and even named a painting after it: “Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly/Into the light of the dark black night.”
Into the light of the dark black night. What a stunningly beautiful piece of writing, promising light within darkness.
I know this is not a new idea. Some Native Americans, among others, have long held that within the void, within darkness, we will learn our most powerful lessons. In fact they believe it is where all creation begins.
David Whyte writes beautifully about it in his poem Sweet Darkness: “Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet/confinement of your aloneness/to learn/anything or anyone/that does not bring you alive/is too small for you.” Wow.
Standing in this window watching Blackbirds, dinner nearly ready, I am moved to create… SOMETHING. That this moment brought me back to art is not surprising. In fact I look at it as one art form (nature) soulfully inspiring another (me/you).
Love to you all,
Jeane
Wonderful celebration of Red winged Black Birds:)! And a lovely evening!
They just LOOK like a celebration, don’t they?
What a treat! For so many reasons, dear friend. And it is timely for my neck of the woods, (Oregon) as we really haven’t had a very hard winter. I love Red Wing Black birds, but they don’t visit me. I believe their song is one of the most thrilling in nature! My birds, large and small, have been coming to the bird feeders in droves! Their song is deafening but such a treat! The squirrels don’t sing and are annoying but I work to outsmart them! They reap the benefit of the spilled birdseed on the ground around the feeders. The Bluebirds try to overpower the little ones but I use feeders too small for the big lugs! So my birds are all over the back yard and as I watch, I can’t help but sing “Black Bird” now, especially having the treat of seeing my “favorite” Beatle Paul McCartney record the song. (“Didn’t he used to be in a band with John Lennon?” I can’t believe it when I hear that.) We are so lucky to have had the Fab Four bring us from preteens to full fledged Beatlemaniacs! And now when I look at my “In Flight” black birds painting (by you), I think of you, Paul, and a flock of Red Wing Blackbirds gathered at the feeder. Finally, what did Kim make for dinner?
I can just picture your lush, large, natural, forest of a yard with its many additions of trees and flowers brought in by you. And I can HEAR those birds singing to beat the band. They must be so happy there. But I’m thinking you must mean Blue JAYS, right? We have Bluebirds here, little blazes of cobalt blue flitting here and there, but they are little finch sized guys. I was forgetting about your Blackbirds in flight painting. Yes, perfect bringing it all together.
If I remember correctly, Kim was trying out a fennel/leek soup that night and a chicken/rice/vegie stir fry. YUM!
Lovely post. I have these birds too and I love them, I love their song most of all.
Yes, their song is amazing. The opening sequence of Pride and Prejudice, filmed in 2005, opens with a single blackbird’s song, to be joined by others as the sun rises. It’s just beautiful.
Yes, Blue Jays, the pests on the wing! We have plain blue as well as black hooded bothersome Blue Jay! Thanks for catching my error!
I’d never seen blue on birds of any kind until I moved to Oregon when I was 12 (and met you). I was captivated by both jays.
They need to eat too! 🙂
In Catholic, Jeanne, I think that’s what we call, “The dark night of the soul”, St John of the Cross.
… and may we be blessed with many of them in our lives.