(Not a robin. A bluebird in the persimmon tree)
It’s been sunny and spring-like here at the Doublewide Ranch—the kind of weather that makes me want to do little but dream and drowse in the sun. So it seems a bit wrong to post dark pictures taken during one of the countless snows we’ve had this winter, but I was amused watching this robin (pictured below) in our persimmon tree, so perhaps you will be, too.
(I do apologize for the poor quality of the shots—the lighting was terrible and the robin was well beyond the reach of my limited-distance lens, but I decided to share it anyway.)
We’re happy that we ended up leaving so many persimmons on the tree this fall because during the snowstorm, it was alive with birds—cedar waxwings, robins, woodpeckers, bluebirds, and mockingbirds—all glad to find the sweet fruit at a time when such was scarce. I watched one particular robin, who drew my attention because he was jumping up and down. Although there were persimmons within easy reach (right in front of him!) he was utterly focused on just one persimmon—the one hanging well above his head. It was at least four inches above him (it looks closer in the photo), so he had to leap up to reach it. And leap he did, over and over.
I laughed out loud and said to him (well, yes, I do talk to birds), “Hey, Mr. Robin, why don’t you just eat the ones you can reach more easily?? Look—right in front of you!” But he didn’t listen—he never took his eyes off The Great Persimmon That Surpassed All Others.
Although I laughed at Mr. Robin, I couldn’t help but realize that there have been times that I was guilty of the same narrow vision. You might remember my post about looking for meteors. Nothing wrong with looking up, of course, but it’s important to remember what my friend, ClairZ so wisely said in the comments:
“…even while we are waiting for that one perfect moment–the meteor streaking through the sky–we are surrounded by the blessings of loving family and wondrous nature. If only we remember to look around and see.”
Indeed. I’m going to remember that—to not get so focused on what I don’t have that I lose sight of what I do. Let’s hope my friend, Mr. Robin somehow discovers that, too.
He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has. ~~Epictetus