For several weeks now, a bonded pair of mockingbirds has been following the old adage to go forth and multiply.  A bush that sits just on the inside perimeter of the pool fence, right beside the "Beware of Dog" sign, has been the center of their world:  first in an amazingly industrious effort to build the nest, then a slight lag while eggs were laid, and, before this week,  an absolute frenzy of activity to feed a nest of hatchlings.

Now they are frantically flying back and forth between the nest and the closest limbs of nearby trees.  Always within sight of the bush that holds the nest and close enough to be heard as they call out in staccato bursts.  I assume they're trying to coax their babies from the nest, get them to take that first short flight, the one that is necessary to sustain those young birds, in particular, and the family line in general.

I envy them.

Listen, I have no desire to be exposed to the elements of a stormy spring and summer and spend every waking hour attempting to raise young-uns.  I don't want to work even nearly as hard as those two birds in order to individually survive and provide sustenance to others.  I can't imagine, in bird hours, how much time, and what percentage of their overall lifespan, has gone into these last four or five weeks.

I can barely comprehend the amount of the courage, energy, and steadfastness that goes into their efforts.

They say that mockingbirds rank pretty high on the bird intelligence scale.  I don't know who studies these things, but I'm willing to take this information at face value.  They supposedly can distinguish between humans, recognizing the ones who pose a threat and the ones who don't.  Their ability to mimic others birds is astonishing.  The human theories vary on why they do this though I'm certain they know exactly why and are fine with it.

So they're smart, hardworking birds.

But that's not why I envy them.

I envy their faith.  Many will say the driving force behind these creatures is pure instinct rather than faith.  Hey, that's okay because I don't think there is anything wrong in being instinctually faithful. Faith is a good thing however you manage it.   Those who would concede that birds are, well maybe, capable of displaying faith would then insist that it's blind faith.  If faith is indeed "hope of that which is not seen," then all faith has a hint of blindness.

I might argue that these two mockingbirds are operating on truth.  Truth that is steeped in the reality that hard work, tireless energy, and implicit trust of the universe will be rewarded.  And that the universe is equipped like a Cy Young award winning pitcher with every pitch in the book:  curve, slider, fastball...but every pitch is hittable with enough preparation seasoned with inspiration and perspiration.

Then there's love.   Yeah, I know.  They're birds.  Even those people who would allow that dogs, and in a rare case, cats, demonstrate love, probably wouldn't go so far as to ascribe that emotion to birds.  But let me tell you something.  I've had a little time during this pandemic to observe.  To look and listen.  And it's difficult to do much observation without a good deal of thought as well.  And there's no way I could have sat there and watched these two mockingbirds over the last several weeks and not believe something more than instinct was driving them.  In fact, I've seen more evidence of faith, truth, and love in these two tiny creatures than I've seen in many of my fellow humans lately.  And maybe that suggests we should look outside of our own flawed species in these difficult times and to some of the other creatures we share this globe with, great and small.

And here's the thing.  Once those fledglings have been coaxed out of the comfort of their nest and began their own contribution to the cycle of life, those two adult birds will start all over again.  Another family this summer, maybe two.  Working in accord with each other and through storms and sunshine alike.  United on the wings of something that looks a lot like truth, faith, and love.  And thankfully oblivious of pandemics and politics and a nation of humans spending too much time mocking each other across the landscape of social media.