They appear out of nowhere one morning, sensing that the season has come and the time is now.

They inspect our little wooden birdhouse with the same careful attention that humans give to buying a new house. Is it sturdy? Is the roof sound? How’s the neighborhood? Are there predators around that might endanger their young?

     We watch them from our breakfast table, not 20 feet off.

     She comes to the perch, inspects the space inside, and flits away. Then comes her mate, examining the roof, testing the branches above, sailing down to the feeder to see what’s offered for breakfast. Later, the two of them come back together, talk the deal over at some length, and decide it will do just fine.

     Now they begin with real industry to build a nest inside. Somehow, with no formal schooling, they know just what they need – twigs from the woods, straw from a nearby field, a bit of hair clipped from an old man’s head. They know precisely how large to make the nest and how much time they’ve got to prepare.

     It’s the wisdom of God, I think, bound up in the heart of a chickadee.

FUN FACT (for apocalyptic thinkers): According to the Smithsonian Institute, honey has an ideal chemical structure that gives it “eternal shelf life.” The key is in its hydroscopic sugars, which is a fancy way of saying it contains hardly any moisture. By the way, oats are almost as good. Stored in an airtight container at room temperature, they can retain almost all of their nutrients for 28 years!