Contentment

Contentment

By
Crystal J. Ortmann


Drifted snow dazzles as the sun brushes glistening strokes across a canvas of white. Tiny prints create a webbed design in the almost flawless covering. Larger, less aesthetic tracks make deep indentations leading up to the bird feeders.
Deep contentment wells up in me as I lug suet, birdseed and water up the hill. Hushed chirps whispered in the trees above remind me I am being watched. The feathered crowd supervises and I can almost hear them say, “Cool. What a spread!” I move slowly in order not to startle them.
Millet and sunflower seeds drop on the ground for the sparrows and other ground feeders. Someone obviously took a bath in the birdbath and didn’t wash out the tub, so I scrub a little before filling it with clean water.
A low watt heater keeps the bath open in the icy weather. While filling the other feeders the sounds of impatient chirps in the branches above become louder. It’s a very mundane job, but somehow I feel as though I’m doing something very significant—helping those who cannot always care for themselves. It’s an opportunity to provide sustenance when outdoor conditions are adverse.
I like to think I bring joy to a twittering group of unlikely comrades. Although many are normally enemies and the pecking order is strictly followed, there is enough for all and, for the most part, harmony reigns (until the starlings arrive!!! They are the original dysfunctional family of the bird world). Contentment comes knowing that my caring made life a little easier today for those feathered creatures.