A reflection on the joy of birding in uncertain times

By Zoe Matties – Manitoba Program Manager

December 4, 2024

When I was a child our kitchen table sat next to a bay window overlooking our small urban backyard. A dog-eared Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America lived on the counter next to the window. Every time we spotted a new bird, we’d mark the date in the book next to its illustration. I still remember the day a pair of Baltimore orioles passed through our yard. In a world swimming in the muted tones of sparrows and chickadees (lovely as they are), the orioles were like sparks of flame. I was enchanted.

Years later, I got my first pair of binoculars. A kind older man named Stan, a master birder and devoted A Rocha volunteer, took me under his wing. Stan could hear the tiniest of peeps in the forest and know exactly who was out there. But more than his birding expertise, it was his gentle and patient guidance that drew me—and many others—into the joy of birding.

Today, as temperatures drop and snowflakes fall heavily from the sky, I am reminded of that joy. A few days ago, I finally remembered to fill up the bird feeders outside my dining room window, and the birds have started to arrive. Predictably, the resident gang of house sparrows have been the first to arrive, but today, a downy woodpecker discovered the suet. What wonder! What joy!

It may seem like an odd time to be focusing on joy. Wars rage, climate catastrophes worsen, political turmoil divides, and economic instability looms, not to mention the various personal tragedies that seem to strike at random. Meanwhile, the consumer-driven Christmas season floods us with factory-made cheer. Yet, in these darkening days, birding reminds me that “joy is not made to be a crumb” as the poet Mary Oliver writes.

Don’t Hesitate
“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.” – Mary Oliver

Joy is one of the four themes of Advent—a season of waiting. We wait for the ways that God, through Jesus Christ, is breaking into this dark world with the light of life. In my church, we light a candle each week leading up to Christmas symbolizing hope, peace, joy, and love. Each little flame reminds us that the light is coming. Each spark an opportunity for the light to grow.

Here’s what I’m learning: I don’t have to choose between my joy for the birds, and my sorrow for the world. One doesn’t cancel out the other. In fact, it is precisely because I love and find joy in the birds, that my heart breaks when I learn that prairie birds are declining faster than birds in other habitats. Despite this heartbreak, I find that the world is still beautiful. It is still worthy of my care and attention. Loving the world means being willing to let it break your heart, and it opens the door to new ways of living that challenge business as usual.

@motherwortandrose on Instagram

We contain multitudes—wonder and confusion, joy and sorrow, peace and struggle, life and death. When we embrace this complexity, we become more whole, and more able to care for the world around us. Our sorrow demonstrates that we are full of love. Our joy is resistance to the death-dealing powers that want to keep us overwhelmed and unable to take action. Our enchantment with the world defies the relentless cycle of bad news.

So, if joy finds you, don’t hesitate. Let it be a flame in the darkness.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.” – Philippians 4:4-5 (NRSV)

Photos by: Tim Cruickshank & Zoe Matties