Yesterday I admitted something that I suspect many people who feed wildlife quietly wrestle with.
The bird feeders were empty.
I knew they would probably stay that way until Friday, and I couldn’t help wondering if the birds would leave. Had they become too dependent on my routine? Would they find another yard? Would I lose this little morning community because I couldn’t justify filling the feeders every single day?
Then today happened.
The birds came anyway.
Not to the empty feeders, but to the shallow pan of cracked corn that sits on the ground for the geese. One by one they landed in the yard, hopping through the grass, picking up kernels that had been there all along. They didn’t seem bothered that the feeders were empty.
They simply found another way to enjoy the yard.
It made me realize something.
Sometimes I think I’m providing more than I actually am.
Nature has been solving problems long before I arrived with bags of bird seed. The birds didn’t need me to rescue them from an empty feeder. They simply adapted, the way nature has always adapted.
The feeder wasn’t what brought them here.
The welcome did.
Perhaps that’s what I needed to learn.
Hospitality doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.
Sometimes we think the gift is in having exactly what someone expects.
But maybe the gift is simply creating a place where they know they are welcome, even if what is offered looks a little different today.
The birds didn’t seem disappointed.
If anything, they reminded me that they know how to be birds.
Maybe I needed the reminder that I can simply be me.
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