Bluebirds

 December 20, 2025

Bluebirds came to my feeder this afternoon. My binoculars were handy, so I spent time looking at them close up, the famous cerulean, the blending of the rust and cream, the incredible radiance of the light on their eyes. They were patient and let me stare. The gratuitous beauty of things is a constant wonder. Why should things be beautiful? Why should the back and eye of a bluebird, to use Whitman’s phrase, stagger sextillions of infidels? My answer is ever the same: some Eye is pleased, and He has granted us to look with the same eyes, that we too might be pleased. 

Repeated playing of Handel’s “As Steals the Morn.”