Agent of the Wild
April Newsletter
Lessons Written in Blue Feathers
Male Western Blue Bird | Douglas County, Oregon
Staying constant isn’t a way of living. It’s the key.
Sometimes the most powerful story is found close to home. It’s amazing the things we can overlook that are all around us. I had some new neighbors over the course of a couple of years. They sure caught my attention, but they didn’t introduce themselves. They were known for living private lives and only showing up at certain times of the year. They actually didn’t mind when I brought out my camera. They were shy at first. No, I wasn’t taking pictures of people. My neighbors were tiny, beautiful, and unmistakably blue. I had a family of bluebirds move into the birdhouse I had in the front yard.
They were not unlike any other couple I’ve seen. They were literally “love birds,” chasing each other around with amazing acrobatics and singing to each other on spring days. I had no idea that watching those moments would be the beginning of a long story that taught me a lot about life.
The idea that something so small could carry such a substantial lesson might sound over the top, but if we take the time to watch and listen, we find meaning hidden in the most obscure places. I remember standing on my front porch on a warm sunny morning, feeling the sun warm my body as I looked out over spring making its mark—blooms showing their colors on the fruit trees, pieces of dew falling off the lilac bush, and hawks letting themselves be known as they caught the early morning drafts upward. While gazing out into the wild, I noticed a quick flash in front of me about 15 yards away. It was almost silver, yet had this blue tint. I looked closer and spotted a male western bluebird, chirping loudly and hopping back and forth on a fence post like he was dancing. I figured a female must be nearby, and sure enough, within 30 seconds, she landed on the post next to him. She wasn’t as brightly colored, but hints of that rare blue shimmered through her plumage. It was an awesome sight—nature in action—and I knew something was bound to happen soon.
Lessons Written in Blue Feathers
A story about resilience, blue feathers, and the quiet lessons that find us when we least expect it
Female Western Blue Bird | Douglas County, Oregon
These two had future plans. I was seeing them land on the birdhouse and go in and out over and over. I had a feeling they had just bought the house, got married, and decided it was time to have some kids. Not long after, I looked inside their house and saw three tiny blue eggs. I watched as he brought her bugs while she sat on the nest, much like a normal couple bringing each other dinner before the kids arrived. It’s funny how similar those moments are, yet we seem to forget that we’re not much different than other creatures on this earth. It was a wonderful sight, made even better by the fact that it was right outside my door. I can still remember warm spring evenings when the sun would turn dark yellow and beam through the trees, lighting up their little birdhouse for about 30 minutes.
While the warm sun stirred spring to life, it was also warming up something else. I spotted a bull snake near the yard and thought, Good, maybe he’ll take care of the pack rats near the barn. I don’t care for snakes, but I respect nature’s patterns. Better to let nature handle the pests while I focused on the bluebirds outside my door.
About two days later, I watched the bluebirds dart through the tall oak trees, using quick, agile wing movements to catch bugs. Bright flashes of feathers would lead to a meal nearly every time. The male kept bringing her food like a dedicated delivery driver, landing on the fence post in front of me and putting on a show. I knew the soon-to-be family was in good “hands.” I photographed and filmed them for days during the best of spring—warm breezes, blue skies, white clouds, and the hum of bees pollinating.
Mating Pair | Douglas County, Oregon
I was loving it as a photographer and filmmaker—they made my job easy. But one day, I noticed frantic noise around the nest. When I got closer, I realized the snake I had welcomed had devoured all the babies. The parents watched in devastation, and I could do nothing.
Watching their world collapse so suddenly reminded me how fragile all building is—even the lives we think are solid. Around the same time, my best friend lost his father. The weight of grief is the same whether it wears feathers or a familiar face. Loss comes without warning. After watching those birds suffer through extreme loss, I realized my friend would do the same. Life carries on if we push through and stay consistent. What matters is what happens next.
Nature doesn’t ask permission before it takes. It can tear down everything that makes life beautiful in a single stroke. I felt bad for the birds, and they left soon after. I didn’t see them again that year.
I didn’t know exactly what to think, but I knew that what I witnessed was the truth of life, and it has both yin and yang. The light and the dark. The sweet and the sour. The calm and the storm. I let it go and continued onward until I noticed something almost exactly a year later. The bluebirds were back, and I saw history repeat. I saw the dance, the building, the love birds, and the blue eggs. The couple had started completely over and were even less shy in front of my camera. They pushed onward, and guess what? No snake this time! They made a family and didn’t let failure or devastation stop them. I was proud of them as though they were actual neighbors. I felt happy to be a part of it. My cameras captured their colors and they were as bright blue as the year before.
So Very Blue | Douglas County, Oregon
Before long, I had pictures of babies with little blue feathers. I watched the mother teach them how to leave the nest, flying up to a nearby branch and chirping nonstop, urging them to leap. One by one, they took flight. I remember the last baby joining her and thinking how amazing it is that time changes everything.
My neighbors had moved out, and the house sat empty. As part of my usual spring walks down the road past their old home, something caught my eye a few weeks later: five bluebirds came to see me. They landed on every fence post as I walked down the road, one after the other in a sequence as though it were a show and I was the customer. They chirped as they moved fluently, showing me all their new flight skills.
I saw something special that day. I saw life in its most powerful form, yet in a tiny package. These birds taught me one of the most profound lessons in life, and I didn’t have to look in an ancient book or talk to a sage. All I had to do was pay attention to the life unfolding right outside my front door.
It’s a timeless story about staying constant in a dangerous world.
Life will lead to great things if we simply carry on, don’t lose hope, and let the past go.
CLICK THE IMAGE BELOW TO WATCH A SHORT FILM ABOUT THE WESTERN BLUE BIRD
Thank You for Subscribing
What experiences with the wild have shaped you? What remains in your own story? Does this resound with you? Can you relate to the blue birds? If so be sure to reply to this email and tell me about it.
Thank you for being part of Agent of the Wild.
It’s a timeless story about staying constant in a dangerous world.
Life will lead to great things if we simply carry on, don’t lose hope, and let the past go.
Persistence wears no crown.
The smallest wings often carry the greatest lessons.
Steady wings lead to great things.
Remember: The same eye that captures Oregon’s wild beauty can showcase the beauty of your home. Let me list your property and show the world what makes it truly special.
Sincerely,
Dan Amos (Agent of the Wild)
