Avian Window Watcher

For the past several weeks, my husband and I have noticed a male cardinal perched outside our kitchen window on the top of a shepherd's hook that holds a wind chime. He appears to be watching us move about inside the kitchen. Often, while we're studying the cardinal from inside our home, he seems to be studying us, as well. It's as if we're trying to stare each other down. The bird is quite handsome, with its bright red plumage, pointed crest and black mask. I have read that cardinals tend to mate for life and that the dutiful male can often be seen engaging in "mate feeding" by selecting a seed and placing it with his beak into the beak of his partner. The romantic in me enjoys this reported aspect of the male cardinal's ritual as what I would consider a sign of love and affection. Seeing as northern cardinals mate at this time of year, perhaps our visitor has been scouting about for any potential predators for the sake of his female partner as she builds the all-important nest. And seeing as Father's Day occurs this month, perhaps our window watcher is spying on us to ensure that we won't disturb that nearby nest with its precious contents. Friends have told me that when they see a cardinal (either male or female), they believe that a dear, departed loved one has come back as a cardinal, if only for that moment, to watch them and ensure that they are alright. I'd like to believe that, too. My late mom used to make cardinals out of red and black felt. One of them is always perched in my home office. As lovely as Mom's handmade cardinals are, right now, I'll continue to be fixated on our real-life cardinal guest, as he busily observes our comings and goings and we watch and enjoy his.

Cardinals

My mom loved to work with her hands and she always made lovely items -- potpourri and cinnamony sachets, counted-cross stitch creations, little pillows bearing one-word messages like Love, Joy and Peace.  She even made many of her own clothes and many of mine when I was a child.  Some of my all-time favorites among her creations were red felt cardinals the size of the real bird.  Mom decorated the Christmas tree with them and she gave them away as gifts.  Each was hand sewn with perfectly even, little stitches.  This year, the cardinals that Mom had given me are adorning a large twig wreath in our living room.  Like the real bird, these cardinals are bringing loveliness and cheer to our December, just as Mom brought loveliness and cheer to all who had the blessing of knowing her. 

Winter Flame

The cardinal is a traditional symbol of the beauty and warmth of the holiday season, according to a notation in a Christmas card I bought for my husband.  I kept looking for those traditional symbols all last month, but they eluded me.  I finally saw cardinals eating from a feeder early in the morning one day this week.  The female in her subtle wardrobe was joined by her brilliant red mate.  As Mother Nature designed, the female blended in with her surroundings, while the male looked like a flame against the silver, sparkling snow.  That blaze of red was a cheery welcome against the paleness of the winter palette.  Perhaps it was because I had been contemplating the male cardinal's vibrancy, but that same day I saw many people wearing red sweaters, red scarves, red hats, red mittens.  It might be our way of trying to be that winter flame in the starkness of the season.  Whatever it is, I find myself drawn to red these days to bring beauty, cheer and warmth to my winter.

Mom's Christmas Cardinals

For many years, my mom brought winter beauty indoors by making red and black felt cardinals. I don't recall where she got the pattern, but from my early 20s onward, Mom could often be found on snowy winter evenings making cardinals as gifts for family and friends and as decorations for our home and Christmas tree.  I have a photo that I took of Mom and Dad seated on the floor in front of our tree some 30 years ago that was decorated simply and tastefully with little white lights and Mom's lovely cardinals.  This holiday season, I have some of her cardinals in wreaths and arrangements of evergreen and curly willow around our home.  But, rather than just look at them and admire their beauty, I find myself touching the tiny, precise and even stitches carefully, wanting my hand to touch where her hand had touched.  Today, Mom's close friend Lou emailed to tell me that when she opened her ornament box to decorate her tree, a cardinal that Mom had made for her fell out.  Lou took that as a sign that the cardinal should be placed at the top of her tree this year.  Lou said she enjoys looking at it and remembering very good times together.  This first Christmas season without Mom is marked by sadness for those of us who knew and loved her. Yet, we are wrapped warmly in memories and feel close to her as we celebrate the season with her lovely cardinals.