The Finch

Yesterday morning I got together with a group of guys from church. We went to a park by the ocean to talk and pray. [Go here for pics of the actual site.] The sun was rising over the Atlantic, and the lobsterman were heading out among the islands. We were standing near a ledge, about thirty feet above the waves, which seemed on this morning not so much to crash against the rocks but to feel their way among them, for the sea was gentle this day.

After a while, chatting and sipping coffee, we stood in a circle and prayed for one another. I kept my eyes open and watched the boats as I listened to the words of intercession, and then I saw the yellow finch. It leapt from a nearby branch of sumac and poured itself into ecstatic circles of flight, just over our heads. Around and around it raced, now intensely beating its wings and twittering, now folding them back so that its body took the shape of a small torpedo, then suddenly beating and twittering again, but always in a bobbing and wavering circle above our heads.

When we were done praying it flew away.