bluebird

Trading my Why

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Why does the sun shine?
Why does the moon glow?
Why do stars twinkle?
Why does the bluebird need
a nesting hole just the right size,
no smaller, no larger?
I grew up as a why girl asking—
mostly in silence—
a shy why, why, why?
In all my grown-up years,
raising children of my own,
my why grew boldly curious.
We set about searching for answers.
But these days, I find I’m changing.
Oh, I know there are reasons,
answers to a thousand why’s,
and the reasons can be fascinating,
but in the end,
I don’t need the shy why
or the bold why.
I need only an open heart
welcoming wonder,
admitting awe,
diving deeply into childlike delight,
receiving the simple gifts of
starshine,
moonglow,
sunrise,
sunset,
bluebird building a nest in the bird box,
robin splashing in a puddle,
cat napping,
trees and breeze and budding blooms,
and the cheery tunes of the mockingbird.
Why?
That’s for my younger friends to ask—
and I say, ask away.
Shy or bold, ask.
As for me,
I’m trading my Why for Wonder.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

For the Price of a Pause

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Spring tiptoed in during the night.
I didn’t expect her so soon.
Winter may yet wave
a final icy farewell,
but today the air hums with Spring,
and I have paused my plans
to revel in her return,
to wonder at the newborn world.
Daffodils dance in a drowsy flowerbed.
Tiny purple blooms run wild in the grass.
Pear trees show off snowy white blossoms.
Lenten roses raise their faces, blushing.
Above in barely budding trees,
birds chatter and cheer and
sing welcome
as if they’ve been secretly saving,
all winter long,
this exact song
for this exact moment.
The breeze, mild and gusty,
flirts with the flowers,
ruffles the robin’s feathers,
whispers to the bluebird
a hint of rain to come.
I marvel at Nature’s generosity.
For the simple price of a pause,
she pours out to me more than I can hold—
seasonal symphonies of sound and song,
an ever-changing gallery of shifting colors,
shapes and shadows
coming and going and coming again,
all mine to see, to hear,
to hold in my heart,
all for the price of a pause.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.
Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

A Bluebird Between Storms

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Between storms,
the whipping wind calms
to an easy breeze
flicking rainwater off
the newborn leaves.
Mama bluebird flits to her birdhouse
with thin dried stems of grass
dangling
from her beak.
She pauses at the entrance,
the just-right-size hole,
glances around,
spies a robin at the birdbath.
Satisfied that he is busy drinking,
she ducks into her house,
reappears seconds later, empty-beaked,
and darts away.
Papa bluebird watches
at a distance
atop a light post
as the robin decides to perch
on the roof of the bluebirds’ house.
Mama bluebird flies back with more straw
but stops short,
resting on a garden ornament,
a shepherds’ crook,
wary of the robin,
this unwelcome visitor.
Papa bluebird casually glides closer
then dives at the robin,
who decides it’s best to be gone.
Mama bluebird flits in again and,
with a wink of blue from her tail,
disappears into her house.
Bluebird wisdom says
be patient
when someone needs to rest
atop your house,
but keep the boundaries clear,
for it is, indeed, your house,
and it is you who are building
your nesting place there.
It’s what we do
in the pause
between storms.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week—Mama bluebird peeking out:


Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.