Meditation With a Downy Woodpecker

Meditation

I forgot to meditate this morning. And yesterday. And, if I’m being completely honest, the day before that.

But I did stand at the kitchen window, watching the downy woodpecker efficiently select tiny bits of suet and seed from the feeder in the apple tree.

He didn’t look up to see who was waiting in line on the branch above his head. He didn’t startle and flee like the chickadees and juncos when the wind suddenly whipped tall grasses against the fence post.

It was only his breakfast, this little moment and of course me, watching this scrappy zygodactyl toed bird gripping the holder while his fuzzy tuft of Scarlett bobbed up and down with each peck.

Delicate black and white feathers across his back ruffled in the wind, and last summer’s apple leaves blew by. Clouds moved swiftly above, ushered by an exuberant late March bluster. But he didn’t leave. This delicious bounty of sustenance was here, now.

The downy woodpecker and I breathed in and out. Staying put. Not moving. Until finally, fully content, we did.

Perhaps I’ll try again tomorrow.