A week or so ago I sat at my little antique writing table. The kind with the roll down accordion top. It’s a very intimate little desk. I’ve made its home beside an upstairs window in my bedroom where I can see the seasons change. This is important to me as a native Texan, ignorant as a child of this thing called “seasons”. I used to say my favorite season was summer. Because that’s all we had.
Here in Pennsylvania it has finally turned all green. And there are actually May flowers after April showers. It’s a thing!
I occasionally see birds but nothing more than the usual robin and the occasional exciting cardinal.
On this day, as I wrote on the topic of dreaming, something “banged” against the window. But it wasn’t like a collision as much as a beak sound… sort of …well it wasn’t a sweet tap… more of a LET ME IN! And just as I caught sight of this little bird, it flew off.
It was a yellow bird. (But you knew that, didn’t you.)
Well you had to have known that now, after reading the inaugural story.
I stood up immediately looking out for my personal sign. I always consider it a sign from Mom. Always special. Never just hello. But more like, I see what you’re doing, and I love you. This is a special moment. Just for us.
I continued to write for a while on the topic of dreams. Dreams were a particular and special commonality Mom and I had between us. My whole life. She taught me how to take note and noticed that I was the type (many are not) who had them – a lot. So she told me to write them down and we spoke often of what they meant. I learned through life this was a topic that not everyone would carry an interest (“cough, cough”, my husband). So it was a “Mom thing”.
TAP! TAP! TAP!
Yellow Bird was back. Just as I caught her, she flew out and then back on the tree directly left of the window. A tree so close the leaves touch the outside of the home. She sat on a branch just above my eye level.
And then she hopped down to a lower branch. Then one more hop down, allowing me to admire her.
Then she flew back at me directly into the window, her little yellow wings flapping in mental competition with a hummingbird.
TAP-Ta-TAPTAP! – Hiiiiii! It’s me, I’m here! I know you don’t always get it the first time, so I’m giving you a really long time to get it, tweet tweet!
Then she flew off with a whoosh.
I have never in the three years I’ve lived here seen yellow birds on the tree, at my window, near my home.
I sat down smiling, content. And then realized I was writing about dreaming. I had been wondering as to whether it should be a book, if it was worth the time, if anyone would be interested blah dee blah blah… the writer’s chatter brain.
I got my confirmation.
Honestly, I don’t know if this is the type of thing you believe in or if it’s all just a fairytale to you. Either way, maybe you’re right.
But isn’t life so much prettier, kinder, lovelier, and much more full of virtue when we believe these moments than when we don’t?
When I think of all the sweet spirits in the supernatural world vying for our attention with yellow birds, random peculiar yet joyful moments of coincidence and “God winks”, when I think of all the times they must happen in scores and yet, when we notice, if we notice, we might choose to blow it off because… well… you fill in your own reasoning here…. I think what a wonderful world we are missing.
What if it’s happening all day, every day? What if today you have been given ten yellow birds and you almost saw one out of your peripheral vision but well… there’s just too much going on in the world of serious nature to play with dolls. But, you see, it’s the yellow bird that makes you able to continue.
What is your yellow bird? Where is she calling you? What is she reminding you? Is she tapping at your window even now and you, through no outward fault of your own, have not seen?
Choose to see. Choose today to see!
I’m excited for you. It’s happening even now. I can’t wait to hear from you what it all means. Because only you will know. That’s how it works.
I believe. And if you’re having a hard time. I’ll believe for you.
That’s how we help each other along.
Okay, Little Yellow Bird… (that’s you). TapTap - Fly!