The Fine Tune of Nature
I might have heard these birdsongs a
gazillion times before, but it is only now that I have learnt to appreciate the
sweet comfort they bring into our lives.
It’s a perfect blend of varying sounds and pitches conjoining into a symphonious orchestra
of nature. The sad melancholy of the cuckoo, the sprightly joy of the sparrow,
the sweet melody of the Indian rock chat, the angry bickering of the common
babbler and the spunky alertness of the myna call out to us each day through
a legato of tunes, notes and emotions.
And just how they manage to bring it all
together is a mystery unto itself.
A little birdie would begin her throat
singing from one corner, and another one from a completely different direction
would instantly reciprocate. And the next one would chip in from quite another.
It is as though each one of them wants to join this grand ensemble of nature’s
fine tuning, and is extremely eager to make its presence felt.
But the curious thing is you can hardly
ever catch these little tykes at it. You look into a certain direction
following a trail of a sound, only to find a big, fat nothing there.
And then, quite teasingly, coo comes a
sound from another direction. You spin around to locate it, but you don’t,
because you can’t.
But then, I got really lucky one day.
My work place is bang in the centre of an
industrial area, and yet, is surrounded by enough number of trees to keep the
birds coming - I once saw a peacock and a peahen imperviously trotting about
the place! Listening to a mellifluous voice coming from the direction of our
pantry window on a warm summer afternoon during lunch, I quietly got up from my
place, stealthily stationed myself near the window, and noiselessly peered
around.
And there. I found it!
The reward for my endeavour - a tiny,
little Indian rock chat had weightlessly perched itself on a thin branch of a
petite tree, and looking blankly into the thin air was issuing the
sweetest of voices. The sound was so high pitched and loud that I had expected
to see a slightly larger bird - something the size of a warbler or a myna. But
the source of this soul-soothing, delectable voice was so tiny that it would
easily fit into my fist, and so delicate that it would break if it did.
Isn’t is simply amazing how nature
provides us such brief consolations even when we are stuck in the dull, mundane
humdrum of a busy city life? I slowly got back to work, both thrilled and
tranquil at the same time, thankful for such little moments of joy.
After all, it ain’t about the big, great
swings. Life is indeed about the little things.
#TheLittleThingsInLife
By the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and His beloved Mother in Heaven.
By the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and His beloved Mother in Heaven.
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