Preponderance of the Small Preponderance of the Small (Keeping Still)

The birds are the first to frighten when I open the door or throw water from the kitchen window. A car once nicked the neighbor’s calico as it scurried across the street so they had to find it and have its snout stitched up, but I chase the cats away anyway from where they watch the gold finches at my feeder. We share an interest but not a motive, watching should any feather be ruffled. The Bible says the Lord sees even the fall of a sparrow; it’s reasonable to think he also cares for cats. The birds have ways to survive. If one sees cause for sudden flight, they all take off. If one discovers food, others come to jostle like selfish nest mates. Each little gold-breasted bird, flying alone, perching on a wet branch, pecking for seeds, balances gracefully above death by cat, or by cold, or by hunger. Nothing but luck or the Lord helps it if it falls. The cats, the birds, my bird feeding, even my chasing the cats away, are parts of the natural order. I’m interfering every way I can like a shepherd protecting his lambs.

Keeping Still