The Possibilities of House Finches
To be as brave as something that seems impossible
Our annual fundraising gala for Rivers & Lands Conservancy was last week and this is the speech I gave. Yet, there were so many more people I thought of as I was writing people, people who weren’t there but inspire me and some them read Written Bird. So, I’m sharing it with you.
These are hard times, divisive times, and in truth, the sort of times when it is difficult to soothe our souls. It is hard to know where to look for inspiration or a feeling of belonging. So lately, I’ve been trying to focus on the gifts we are given without expectation of reciprocity.
These gifts surround us. They are as simple as exhaling carbon dioxide in a natural flow to plants, only to have it returned to us as oxygen. Nature functions as a gift economy and what is available in abundance is given freely. Perhaps the best thing we can do for ourselves in times like these is to reframe our natural resources as what they actually are, gifts. We have been given so many gifts.
What we have in abundance, we often share with other beings. Whether we recognize it or not, it’s a lesson we learn from nature and replicate. The water we have flowing from our taps is an abundance not available to wildlife in the heat of the summer. So, we put water out for the bees and the birds. We have plenty to share, at least for now, and it doesn’t even occur to us what the wildlife might do for us in return. We may plant native plants that feed and shelter wildlife in our gardens. We don’t do this because we are obligated or expect anything, we do it because it feels like belonging and like gratitude for being invited to belong.
These acts seem so simple that I suppose we begin to take them for granted. At least, we take them for granted until nature gives us a gift we weren’t expecting. Honestly, it had been feeling like a chore feeding the summer house finches who themselves are abundant and easily overlooked in our yards. We hope for charismatic birds to visit our feeders, and charisma is defined by scarcity and bright colors.
House finches are like a fingerprint though, each male dons its colored feathers in a different arrangement. Their breast and face may be bright red, orange and occasionally yellow. Some have just a blush of color and others shine like jewels in the sun. There are so many ways to be a house finch.
So, I started photographing them and drawing them as individuals rather than as a species. As I became more familiar with their variety, I began to see that the abundance was not just in numbers but in the range of differences and possibilities for each individual. It made the world feel larger. It made me feel smaller, but in the best possible way.
I had been pondering the endless possibilities of house finches when nature decided to show me one that seemed impossible. One morning mixed in the riot of reds and oranges was a pure white house finch. I had never seen a leucistic finch before and as 1 in 30,000 bird, I probably never will again. I called him Moby Finch. Moby was older bird molting out his brittle white feathers and he hung out for a few weeks allowing me to capture his charisma with my camera.
I wondered what it was like to be so different and obvious to predators. I wondered how Moby had survived so long. I wondered if he had a mate. I wanted to protect him. I wanted him to be celebrated. I wanted to be as brave as a pure white finch in a harsh world. And yet, aren’t we all just as unlikely as any of the possibilities of a house finch. Aren’t we all as much of a singular gift as all the rest of what nature gifts to us?
This realization colored with nature’s careful palette made me realize how much I have to give. What happens when you water an oak? That seedling becomes your sense of place, of possibility, and of being a part of a timeless cycle that has always existed and always will. We give. We belong. And we thrive.
You are people who not only believe in the gift economy but live it. This is how we get through hard times, and this is how we appreciate and give nature a hand. It is how we uplift ourselves.
You are all a part of something so much bigger than any one of us or the times we live in. You are all unique and impactful to the people you love and your communities. You represent so many examples of the possibilities, not of finches, but of people. And the possibilities astound me. So, thank you. Thank you for all you do for nature.
What a beautiful post to read to start the day. Thank you for this.