PLUMED HATS OFF TO THEM....

Quail tracks in the snow

Maybe I first heard it sung by my mother or father—that 1926 pop song with lyrics about a red-red-robin that went bob-bob-bobbin' along. Move over, Mr. Robin. Make room as well for the quail, which faithfully visit my yard, especially in late fall and early winter. I know the quail are about when I hear their quiet chortles as they forage for food, their heads bobbing up and down. A rose hedge, full of rose-hips, was once their bird-friendly gourmet dinner. That hedge is now gone, so I'm hoping other treasures of the yard will draw them back and I'll again hear them chortling “Rebecca, rebecca!”

Of course, there are many quail species; the one most commonly seen where I live has that distinctive top-of-the-head six-feathered plume, which reminds me of an old-time military guard's helmet. Although it's a bird, it's a ground-dweller as its wings can barely lift it off the ground. When it feels threatened (like by an approaching human or predator) the quail scurry away in a ground-running flutter.

Despite their fraidy-cat behavior, they're a delightful sound and sight. I know winter is hard for them; they don't fly—they cannot fly—to a warmer climate. So they hang around our northern, snowy environment, working hard to find something to eat. In the spring, they show up with their tiny just-hatched chicks jockeying just behind, learning the ropes of finding food. Sometimes I wish they could understand “human-talk.” When, after a snowfall, I see them nosing around my yard, I want to tell them, “Hang on, I'll throw out some bird seed.” It doesn't take much—even the door opening—for them to react and scatter in a noisy mass fluttering.

THE BIBLICAL QUAIL-TRAIL...

For whatever reason God created these earth-bound birds, I'm grateful for the spiritual lessons they bring to mind. One is the Bible verse I taught to fourth grade girls in a Sunday school class decades ago:

Fear thou not; for I am with you; be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.(Isaiah 41:10)

I recall using hand movements to help the girls memorize it.

“Fear thou not, for I am with you''--head-turning for “no.”

“Be not dismayed, for I am your God”--pointing upward (for God).

“I will strengthen you”--arm lifted into “show your muscle” pose.

“I will help you”--arm lowered, outstretched hand.

“I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness”--arm raised, pointing upward.

Even decades later, that verse (with its hand movements) comes quickly to mind. And not just when I see the local quail skitter around with their “fraidy-cat” reactions to any possible threat. I've had to deal with my own threatening situations and angry people, which do get the adrenaline flowing. But right behind those spiritual tests I hear this affirming verse anew: Fear thou not, for I am with you. And isn't that, at the heart, one of the key messages of Christ's coming?

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Here's a photo and more on this beautiful bird: 

California quail - Wikipedia

PATHWAYS

Our neighborhood quail--before the snow

Often when shoveling freshly-fallen snow, I encounter the dainty footprints (claw-prints?) of local California quail, identified by their gray coats and the lone forehead tear-drop feather, like the turban on an oriental potentate. Because female quail typically lay between 8 and 16 eggs, I'm guessing the “tribe” that hangs out under our hedge rose (with its abundance of edible rose hips and buried bugs) is a mom, dad and lots of juvenile quail.

Constantly they cluck “rebekah” as they strut beneath branches. The slightest disturbance—like passersby or our front door opening--sends them into their low-flying escape behavior. Then it's back to rebekah, rebekah, rebekah—their trademark cluck. Sometimes they walk along the top of our backyard fence, their bulky bodies teetering on the narrow fence boards. Though they aren't high fliers like other birds, their wings do provide enough motion to give them soft landings back on earth.

So? Well, having such a beautiful display of God's creation moving through our yard gets me thinking about times in my younger life when I wasn't quite out on my own and still learning from my parents or parent figures in my life. The latter group was particularly important to me because my own parents died when I was a very young adult. Thus I looked for godly adult models to lead me into fuller adulthood. Like a poult (young quail) following close behind a parent, I kept their example in sight.

Of that time in my life, this verse took on personal meaning:

Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way, walk in in it.'” (Isaiah 30:20-21)

The context, of course, was the prophet Isaiah's warning for Israel to return to God. But he wanted them to realize there could be a better ending to the story being written by conquering nations if they turned from their immature, immoral ways. For me, during my times of adversity and affliction after my parents' death, I became especially tuned in to the character of good people God placed in my life.

Another encouraging passage from that difficult time in my life was Psalm 37:23-24:

The Lord delights in the way of the man whose steps he has made firm; though he stumble, he will not fail, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.

When life got scary—in job and location changes when I didn't know where I'd live, my finances were thin, and I hadn't connected with a spiritual family (okay, are you hearing Mama and Papa Quail clucking me to stay close?)-- I prayed in trust that God would firm up my faltering steps because I believed He was utterly trustworthy. And He did, often in surprising, last-minute ways.

When quail wander over the snow covering our driveway, their claws leave delightful patterns. They circle around a few times, then go off in a different direction. And sometimes my life was like that, too. Not a straight-forward race, but one with detours. But God was keeping His eye on me and—like those parent quails—knew when to signal my need to come back closer to His safe place.