Charlie, the Birds, and Poetry by Alan Anderson

“So out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name.”-- Genesis 2:19-20.


I can often demand a lot of myself. I’ve realized this through the years. As I become closer to being an almost old guy, I am also aware of my need to slow things down. I gave readers an idea of this in my January 2020 post. Remember?


2019 goes down in my life history as a drain on my emotions and health. I couldn’t concentrate well enough to write or read for long. I bemoaned perhaps my writing days had ended.


In an endeavour to slow my life down and focus again God drew my attention to creatures familiar to me. These creatures are Charlie and the birds. Charlie is the poodle my wife, and I brought into our family a few years ago. The birds are those I see every day outside our home. They come for the food I leave for them in the bird feeder. I don’t know all the various types that hang around, but they are all welcome.

Charlie is like my shadow. He always seems to be with me. He loves to go for walks on the dike with my wife and I. He sniffs the air and stops every so often to mark his territory. We know it isn’t all his territory but we don’t have the heart to tell him. He loves being with us and we love being with Charlie.


One day, first thing in the morning, I got up to let Charlie out to perform his morning ritual. When I opened the porch door to let him out, I noticed one of the bird feeders was empty. The air was cool and frost lay on the grass. I walked the few steps to the feeder and replenished the bird food.


An hour or two later, I went out to the porch again. I noticed the birds enjoying their brunch. The menu comprised a variety of birdseed and a suet block. 


Charlie and the birds are great therapists. My mind relaxed after several times sitting on the porch with Charlie as we watched the birds. I could sense and almost feel words in my mind. The words ached to get on to a page. I once again had the driven desire to write.


My rejuvenated desire to write came in the form of poetry. This also came as a surprise to me. I never thought I would write poetry. After writing a few poems and revising them, I discovered I love to write poetry. For me, writing poems is also therapeutic. Each word is meaningful as I bring a new poem to life. I can almost feel my brain relaxing as I write. The poems are like a healing tonic for my mind. 

Charlie and I watch the birds from our porch almost everyday now. Most times when we arrive home from our walk we say hello to the birds. I must admit, however, as soon as they see us they fly away. When that happens Charlie and I stand on the porch with the door closed. A minute or two later the birds return and resume their meal.


God has given us creatures like Charlie and birds to relax and rejuvenate us. My friends take the time to love and cherish these beautiful creatures. Our hearts and minds will be all the better for it. Our sense of wonder will soar and our creativity will be free again.

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