Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
—Mahatma Gandhi
There have been times in my life when I wondered if I would ever be happy again. Those were struggling times, deep and dark times in my soul. I couldn’t wish, pray, think, or act my way out of the darkness. So I just went through it–like those long tunnels under the mountains on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. No matter how much you want to see the light or maybe want to turn around, you can’t—you just have to move forward and travel through it.
I thought the Bluebirds had left our place and migrated south–I hadn’t seen them for quite a while. And then Friday I noticed the yard was full of them! They perched and swooped and chirped like a playground full of children! Bluebirds of Happiness!
They were probably gathering up for migration, filling up on their fall diet of sumac and chokecherry seeds–after a summer of eating insects.
I was amused by how this little guy looked all around from his perch on the Maple tree right outside our window.
A male and female flew to an inverted tub to drink the rainwater that had accumulated in the little troughs. What beautiful birds!
Most Eastern Bluebirds migrate some distance to the south, but not all of them. Researchers are not sure why some stay in the northern climate during the harsh, cold winter. I wonder if their winters are as bleak as my struggling times were. But struggling times are learning times, a vast and precious rearrangement of our thoughts, words, and actions, all precipitated through the troughs of our feelings. We drink them up, and they sustain us. Aristotle wrote, “Happiness depends upon ourselves.” Not what other people do, not with how much stuff we have, not with who wins the election. Alignment to harmony equals happiness. A yard full of beautiful Bluebirds is just icing on the cake!
I stumbled through a flock of bluebirds last Thursday, too. It was entertaining, and it was nice to have a chance to say goodbye. I did see some right along the water on the St. Croix last spring, and learned at that time that some stay all winter, often hanging out near any open water they can find.
Aren’t they amazing and beautiful?! Even as bright as their feathers are, I still think you have to train your eye to really see them since they are so quick! I take it you live on the St. Croix? Does that stay open at places in a normal winter? (Not that the last two have been normal.)