Who doesn’t enjoy a gift? No one; we all like receiving gifts. “Just what I always wanted”, or “Oh what a nice surprise!”, or “now, that’s different”, might be our comments upon opening a present, or a gift. The best gifts may not be wrapped at all. As my husband has prayed, “thank you Father for the air we breathe”, among other things we tend to take for granted. And sometimes — just sometimes — a whole day is one big gift. Such was today, Saturday, April 25, 2026, with a flawless blue sky, gentle breezes, and short sleeve comfort without being hot. As the day unwrapped itself, I figured out why gifts are sometimes called presents; to be fully present in a moment, we are able to see the gift in it.

For the previous 24 hours, I had the sinking feeling something had happened to our Eastern bluebird couple who are incubating six beautiful blue eggs in a box at the back of our lawn. First thing this morning, I waded the dew to check the box and found it still egg-filled, but no parents, just like my last box check last evening, and throughout the day yesterday. As I peered into the nest this morning, I heard a faint snap, snap, snap…but could see no birds nearby who might have given the warning snap. I carefully closed the box, and retreated to the patio to watch. As I sat down, I saw the beautiful blue-feathered friends perched on the electric lines over my potting shed. Relief washed over me as I looked upward whispering thank you, and found even my coffee tasted better without the thought of six orphaned eggs. Then, Mr. Bluebird flew to their box, looked in, then leaned in, and satisfied all was good, he backed out and flew to a nearby perch, and seemed to give a nod. Mama bluebird then took her cue and entered the box to sit with her soon-to-be family. I noticed daddy bird sat for a moment or two longer, then flew out of sight. What a gift to know nothing had happened to them, and moreover, to witness the careful attention they give to their nesting duties. The way he scans the area, and gives her the “all clear,” is a treat to witness.

Soon the air was filled with our Purple Martin colony as they began their winged feeding and demonstrating their unique aerial skills. Their calling is like a multi-syllable song that begins and ends with tapping and an alien-type clicking from the movie Signs. I have no better way to describe it. They are fascinating, and this year all 18 of our gourds are hosting these black beauties, thanks to my husband’s diligent efforts to fend off the offending house sparrows; not to mention 12 new and improved gourds that are easier to view and tend. Breakfast and a show!

A beautiful song directed my attention to the tip top of our Brandywine maple tree, where a Baltimore Oriole was perched, singing his morning melody. What a treat just to see and hear this one. I did have to look online to be sure of his identity as I had only seen him once the day before — and in the exact same spot. By this time, I was joined by my husband who has caught my birdwatching addiction. Nearer to where we sat, is a Hawthorne tree whose branches hold a wren house covered by a bent license plate. The hardworking wren (which I believe is a common house wren) had finally gotten a taker on his nest of twigs and he was singing his little lungs out. She (I have to suppose, because the male and female wrens look alike) flew in and out of the little house so quickly I couldn’t decide if she was feeding young, or adding her touch to his nest-building skills. These small quick birds make up for their size with their loud voices and tenacity. Other visitors to the back yard this morning were: song sparrows, two brown thrashers, a pair of goldfinches, a cardinal, the resident mocking birds, a cedar waxwing (versus a tufted titmouse, not sure), and a male house sparrow whose attempts at setting up housekeeping nearby were thwarted by the tenacity I just mentioned, of our wrens. For a bird watcher, these visitors were a gift in themselves, only to be topped later in the day by the king of birds.

As the day went forward, I made a visit to a neighbor who was recuperating, where I was met cheerfully by her dog. Cheerful was good, because he was quite active and rather large; as my mother would say, he was as fat as a town dog. He was as slick as a seal and just as playful. Obeying his mama, he retired to his crate on the porch while we visited, but when I rose to leave, Haney (the dog) came out of his crate to walk me out, so to speak. He then left me, only to return quickly with a stick of about 12 inches long, and promptly held it up for me to take. I did so, and thanked him for the gift; then threw it for him and he did the fetch thing and brought it back and placed it at my feet. Just one gift after another! I mean, this day just kept becoming more and more in need of a large bow and scotch tape.

Just before sunset, I was invited by hubby to listen for a couple of owls he had been hearing throughout the day. The owl makes a tone out of my hearing range and the man continues trying to get me to hear them. As we sat in an area between his equipment shed and an old stock barn, we suddenly became aware of a large presence coming over us. Looking up, we were surprised to see an eagle soaring overhead, (the king of birds I mentioned earlier). It seemed to just barely glide above the tallest shed, but you know how the memory exaggerates the contents of a surprise. He was, however, closer than I had ever been to an eagle for sure. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, westward and away. Giving up on the hooting of owls, we turned toward our house, to see a parade of deer sauntering along the back of the field, toward our pond behind the house. We eased up the driveway and onto the patio to spend our sunset watching the deer. A group of four, we determined, and we watched as they took turns stepping up onto the pond bank, then downward out of sight to get a drink, and back up again. As the first one returned to her herd, the second one repeated her actions. Our attention was diverted by the evening birds on the lawn, as well as the eagle returning, and hiding itself in the oaks beyond our pond. We were feeling quite blessed by a day of many gifts, not the least of which is health good enough to be out and about, and the beauty of the day wrapped around us. But then — just as I was looking back out to the deer — I saw them startle and jump away from the pond bank. I looked in the direction they were looking. At that moment we had the joy of seeing the eagle mount up triumphantly from the pond with a fish, large enough we could see it in his talons. Carrying its supper away, it left my husband and me just open-mouthed in awe. Now, for many frequent lake-goers, this would not be a spectacular experience, but for an old farm couple in Hazel, Kentucky, who had only been spotting bald eagles high up and away for very few recent years, this was a thrilling evening. Sunset found us giddy with excitement — excited about life, and just being present in the day — a day of gifts!

More than ever, I felt the truth I had been hearing about being in the moment. I had experienced it the evening before as I walked my fur baby, letting him meander the roadside, and taking the time myself to touch, smell, and name as many of the wild plants as I could. In full bloom were honeysuckle, wild privet, and what I hope are blackberry vines. The cedar is laden with tiny light blue berries I enjoy seeing each year. None of this was new; it was new in a different way, as I forgot about hurrying back, or any other concerns. I didn’t even concern myself with the need to walk for exercise, as my guilty conscience usually thwarts the pleasure of any evening stroll. No, I just looked at each thing in our path with eyes only for that moment. There were scents of sweet, lemony, and evergreen; and a dozen different shades of green; with a symphony of calls and croaks. (Yes, I did taste the honeysuckle nectar. Several times. As sweet as ever!) Inhaling, seeing and listening — all those gifts of the senses God gave us — using them to appreciate the other gifts from Him, were helping me be present in the moment. This is the way to approach God’s word as well. I plan to be much more in the moment as I listen to God speak from His word — no distractions, just holding each phrase with an open heart, looking at it in it’s context, without trying to prove or disprove anything, and letting it connect me with God’s own heart.

In Gary Chapman’s book, The One Year Love Language Minute Devotional, he states, “Giving gifts as an expression of love is universal. A gift is a visible token that says, ‘I was thinking about you’ “. He points out that some people speak the language of gifts as they express their love. I can believe that, because the One in whose image we are made, gave and continues to give the very best gifts! “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17).

Have a wonderful week! Perhaps we will have the gift of rain without a great deal of storm damage. Remember to be present in your moments. Trisha