It's Not That His Eyes Are On The Sparrow, But That All These Sparrow Eyes Are Watching Me When I Wake Up

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free, 

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know he watches...

   ...he watches me. (Lauryn Hill)

While living in Syracuse, the Northstars performed to the song, "His Eye Is On the Sparrow," a faith-oriented hymn borrowed from many renditions of a Christian song that reminds human beings of the miracles of life and how complex mother nature is in relation to the vast Great Whatever out there. A colleague at Syracuse University sang the song to me one day in my truck and she explained how special the song was to her church. She grew up in the Baptist south and the way she sang it gave me chills. 

So, when I moved into the new house and woke up the first day with several sparrows looking down at me from the great windows (I've never owned a home where I slept on the second floor), I was a little impressed. Hello, little guys. Glad to see you today. Do you like my new home?

But then my neighbor came over and said, "The first thing you'll need to do in that house is get rid of the sparrows. They think they own that home because no one has lived there for several years."

Um, okay.

That's when I noticed that it wasn't a few sparrows, but flocks of sparrows that use my house as an airport. Yesterday, with the sunshine, too, I also recognized how horny the sparrows were. They were mating on my car, roof, telephone wires, porch, snowbanks, and driveway. They were definitely in the mood (tweet tweet). They also began making nests in my gutter.

I thought, "Great. Not only are the Eyes watching me, but they are turning my home into aviary bird porn. It's like a XXX theater of feathers and beaks." Their eyes are on me because they think my house is their tree, their Ibiza, their Vegas, and their honeymoon suite. They want me GONE!

I went online to Google and asked, "how do I get rid of sparrows?" I started laughing because there are all sorts of ways to get rid of such birds (Google it) and many of the suggestions are sick, demented, and out of their minds. I don't want to get rid of them. I simply want to co-locate with them or have them move towards the woods where they belong. I can go with the fake owls, but I don't think I will work with sonic noises, poison, electric wiring, sticky tape, zappers, or cats. 

Battling sparrows is battling God him or herself. That is not my intention. I'd rather groove with the way The Great Whatever jives. If it must be sparrows, so be it.

And with that, I admit, it's nice to have them watching me when I wake up, singing their slight cheer to welcome spring. It's all good. Something will work its way out.