Winter and the Nuthatch

Once or twice and maybe again, who knows,
the timid nuthatch will come to me
if I stand still, with something good to eat in my hand.
The first time he did it
he landed smack on his belly, as though
the legs wouldn’t cooperate. The next time
he was bolder. Then he became absolutely
wild about those walnuts.

But there was a morning I came late and, guess what,
the nuthatch was flying into a stranger’s hand.
To speak plainly, I felt betrayed.
I wanted to say: Mister,
that nuthatch and I have a relationship.
It took hours of standing in the snow
before he would drop from the tree and trust my fingers.
But I didn’t say anything.
Nobody owns the sky or the trees.
Nobody owns the hearts of birds.
Still, being human and partial therefore to my own successes—
though not resentful of others fashioning theirs—
I’ll come tomorrow, I believe, quite early.

Mary Oliver

CultFit Winter

6 Comments on “Winter and the Nuthatch”

  1. bgddyjim says:

    Early bird gets the worm, baby! Or, well, the bird in this case but let’s not be picky, eh?

    Happy Thanksgiving brother, great days for you and yours.

    • CultFit says:

      I hope you and your family are having a wonderful day as well … About that time to settle in on the couch and watch some football! Take care and be well!

  2. Boatbird says:

    Another stunning photo – love it!

  3. Mike says:

    An entertaining work that’s fun to read Cf – your Machiavellian strategy for the morrow delights 😀 A nice human piece.

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