God's creatures

Sunday morning, the last day of our retreat was lovely. I should say first that the whole experience was moving, due in no small part to our brilliant chaplain, who was leading us and had clearly put a lot of love and hard work into his preparation - besides putting up with us being silly on the drive up and down, and being made to listen to ABBA :) There's christian endurance for you! J put it best - "it's lovely to see someone shining so brightly in their vocation".

Anyway, I thought I'd have a little quiet time after Lauds and breakfast (around 8am). So I opened the window to let the world in, then closed my eyes and had a word with God. And when I opened my eyes, there was, I kid you not, a robin sitting on the window sill, staring at me with his bright little onyx eyes. Above the radiator, where it was nice and warm. I didn't want to scare him away, so I stayed as still as possible and looked back at him.

We sat like that for maybe 10 minutes, me looking at him and him looking at me. Then, because I can never help myself, I started having a little chat with him. If you know me, this is less crazy than it sounds. I will talk to pretty much anyone or anything, including random people on the bus, dogs, myself, and any equipment that is either not functioning or is being unexpectedly cooperative. So why not talk to a robin?

I told him some stuff I was thinking, and I read him a poem - he seemed like he was listening. He turned to look at me as I walked around the room. When it was time for Eucharist, I said goodbye and left the window open for him.

Much later, when it was time to leave and I went to collect my stuff, he was still there. I didn't want to shoo him away, so I just put my hand palm up on the sill beside him, thinking that would probably make him decide it was time to leave before the crazy lady got too close. But did he fly away? No. He hopped onto my hand! I wish I could have taken a picture, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to hang around while I got my camera and flashed it in his face. Instead I picked him  and reached out of the window, and he finally flew away.

I could tell you everything that experience has made me think and feel since, but that would spoil it for both of us. Some things are just wonderful, and that's good enough.