As autumn settles in and hurricanes wash over our shores I begin to anticipate the crescendo of cedar waxwings arriving among our treetops. Typically a few “scouts” will appear along with a few robins riding shotgun here in North Carolina in early October. We imagine the waxwings returning to their flock (the group is called a museum) with tales of berries, pastures, calm waters nearby for drinking and bathing, and safe shelter among the branches of our bountiful cedar trees.
I imagine the twitters of excitement as the colorful creatures ready for their journey to our Cedar Grove sanctuary. With watchful eyes and a longing heart I anticipate the arrival of the entire museum within the next few weeks. When they swoosh in together my breath is taken again, in awe of their generous spirit, the gregarious sharing of berries down the line until the last one is fed. Sharing without thought of ego, hierarchy, class. Just working together to make sure every last one is safe and full.
Like my other favorite winged creature, the great blue heron, I occasionally long for solitude and simpler times, wanting to shut out the rest of the world and turn off all avenues of news. To just wade through shallow water and reeds, head down and squawking at the slightest intrusion. But as the waxwing teaches us, perhaps living among the flock and caring for one another is the goal.