The Magic Tree

The Magic Tree


Outside the bedroom window I can see the tree. It is tall, growing inches each day after we planted it. Now it towers over the house. Birds love the tree. Just the other day Billy sat with a bird book and listed all he found.

Cliff Swallow
Black Capped Chickadee
House Wren
Mountain Bluebird
American Robin
Gray Catbird
European Starling
Cedar Waxwing
Yellow Warbler
Yellow Breasted Chat
Black Headed Grosbeak
Lazuli Bunting
Spotted Towhee
Lark Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Western Meadowlark
Redwing Blackbird
Common Grackle
Bullock’s Oriole
House Finch
Red Crossbill
Pine Siskin
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow

“That’s quite a list, my man. Are you sure you saw all those birds in the tree?” I was skeptical. Billy is ten years old, not exactly John James Audubon.

Billy gave me the look of disbelief. “Mom. I have my Birds of the West book, the bird calls app on my phone, my binoculars, and my list from last year. Yes I’m sure this is correct.” As if to prove me right, he took all three from the kitchen table, pushed me out the door to the backyard and to the tree.

“Okay little ornithologist, tell me how all these birds are living together in the tree. Even I know that bluebirds and meadowlarks like different homes than siskin and sparrows.”

I gazed through the binocs to see blue and yellow and brown and black feathered bundles of life flitting and flying into and around the tree.

“I think it’s because it’s a bread tree. They like the bread. They all share the bread. They don’t fight over it. They know there is enough for all.”

I know this isn’t a bread tree, those don’t grow in Montana. But somehow it is Billy’s magic tree full of birds.

W/C 295