On this early Sunday morning it is already sultry, as mid-July summer days are apt to be.

I did something I’ve been doing daily for a few weeks.

I went out on the porch to check on a Mommy Robin that I was certain was close to laying her eggs.

She’d been scoping out my porch since spring and had created a masterful nest, complete with ribbon running through it.

Aviary masterpiece.

There were a couple of days when she wasn’t there, and I worried some winged adversary had raided the nest.

More likely than not.

But just as I was heartbroken for her, mommy Robin returned and has since spent most of her time nesting.

This morning I decided to see for myself if she had returned to grieve, or if there was real life in the nest.

The short answer is yes to life.

I waited until she went off for food and water and brief respite and then carefully stood on a bench nearby and shot a photo of the nest from above.

There were four large, blue eggs.

Gorgeous shade of blue.

One was slightly cracked, as if birth might be imminent.

The sighting filled my heart and soul with joy.

Actually, I was a more than little giddy.

In a world that seems to have gone mad, this simple, annual ritual of birds building nests and giving birth to the next generation is beautiful and healing.

It reminded me of the goodness beneath all the ugliness that too often commands our attention these days.

In the midst of it all, the natural world is still doing it’s predictable thing.

What a marvel of nature.

I sat rocking on the porch for a while taking in that realization.

I wondered how the Mommy Robin knows just how to make that incredible nest and how she knows her critical role in all.

I marveled at her discipline to guard her eggs and spend hours helping ensure they hatch.

I wondered if Mommy Robins grieve when their nests are raided.

I said a prayer that these chicks make it all the way.

The statistics are dismal. Something like 25 percent will make it to adulthood.

Birthing hope, it has become my habit to say good morning and good night to Mommy Robin every day.

She seems to have adjusted to my presence and knows I mean her and her babies no harm.

When two large crows landed in trees near the nest and started to vocalize loudly, I knew her babies might be in danger.

The nest had clearly been spotted, and I went into action.

I relocated a large plastic owl from another place in the garden nearer to the nest and wrapped aluminum foil strips near the nest to help scare them away.

Then I checked to make sure those measures hadn’t scared her off, too.

They hadn’t.

The family’s survival now is personal.

God’s creatures are magnificent. We need only stop long enough to learn from them.

This Sunday morning, that’s exactly what I did.

I respectfully did my human part.

My reward was a big porch blessing.

Fuel for the Sunday Spirit.

How does welcoming & observing nature in your yard help feed your spirit?