Noel Of Small Birds

Day 72: During the years when I used to play Celtic harp and perform professionally, I wrote much of my own material. Most of it was instrumental, but occasionally, I'd compose a song.

Noel of Small Birds

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.

From their homes in barren trees, sparrows go, and chickadees.
Finches search for bright berries, flying back with treasure.

From a journey returning laden, they sing merrily.
Song fills the sky, and the snow is so white
And red the rowan tree.

Gifts of Man shall help in need, crumbs of bread and scattered seed.
Thankful small birds all indeed, merry to a feather!

Singing, soaring over the forest, freely they shall fly.
Dance on the wind over moorland and glen
In the sparkling winter sky.

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.

All along the hedgerow gay, birdsong beckons in the day,
From the holly and the bay, and the hoary heather.

Tiny birds take wing to go wassailing. Questing they shall go.
Thicket and bush for a moment are hushed
By the silence of the snow.

Masters of their frosty hall, they announce the minstrel's callm
Pleasure to accord to all, singing all together.

Thus their carol rises unbounded, joyful hearts in flight.
Echoing trills lie like mist on the hills
On a starry winter night.

Noel Of Small Birds

Day 54: For as long as I have lived in my present home, it has been my tradition to put up a few decorations on St. Nicholas Day, although I generally wait until somewhat later in the month to put up the tree. The "bird wreath" is always the first to go up. But for one, the birds are all fairly accurate representations of specific species: Blue Jays, a Goldfinch, a Cedar Waxwing, a Red-Headed Woodpecker, Anna's Hummingbird, a White-Breasted Nuthatch, Cardinals, and a Crow, without which any wreath of mine would have seemed incomplete. The one exception is a little pink bird in a nest who arrived at my hospital bedside in a pot of tulips following a surgery many years ago. Of course Blue Jays are not found in the Pacific Northwest, but they were as close as I could get to a Steller's Jay, nor are Cardinals, but they are the bird most often associated with the holiday season.

My tree will also be filled with birds of all shapes and sizes: tiny woodcarvings, flat cutouts, three-dimensional metal figures, faceted faux crystal, blown glass. There are Cockatoos and Crows, Parrots, Cardinals and Grey Jays, fat Chickadees, Owls, and even a pair of farmyard chicks who look like they escaped from someone's Easter basket. Not that I forget very often, but they serve to remind me to keep the feeders filled so that no one goes hungry.

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.
From their homes in barren trees, sparrows go, and chickadees.
Finches search for bright berries, flying back with treasure.
Gifts of Man shall help in need; crumbs of bread and scattered seed.
Thankful small birds all, indeed! Merry to a feather!

Don't forget the little people in your yard. Put out seed and water daily.

Noel Of Small Birds

Day 72: Many years have passed since I penned this carol and performed it on the harp. I hope it will inspire my readers to remember our feathered companions this holiday season.

Noel of Small Birds

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.
From their homes in barren trees, sparrows go, and chickadees.
Finches search for bright berries, flying back with treasure.
From a journey returning laden, they sing merrily.
Song fills the sky, and the snow is so white,
And red's the rowan tree.

Gifts of Man shall help in need, crumbs of bread and scattered seed:
Thankful small birds all, indeed! Merry to a feather!
Singing, soaring over the forest, freely they shall fly.
Dance on the wind over moorland and glen
In the sparkling winter sky.

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.
All along the hedgerow gay, bird-song beckons in the day,
From the holly and the bay, and the hoary heather.
Tiny birds take wing to go wassailing. Questing they shall go.
Thicket and bush for a moment are hushed
By the silence of the snow.

Masters of their frosty hall, they announce the minstrel's call,
Pleasure to accord to all, singing all together.
Thus their carol rises unbounded, joyful hearts in flight.
Echoing trills lie like mist on the hills
On a starry winter night.