Eastern Kingbird : The King in the Field

Eastern Kingbird

This is an Eastern Kingbird.  I’ll occasionally see one at home, but here on this expedition, they’re much more common.  To see this bird is one of the reasons that I visit this park.  Beyond just the bird itself, there is a certain comfort that comes from knowing that I’ll have this encounter.  There is an anticipated familiarity, a sense that in this time, in this place, I can rely on seeing one.  In a sense, it’s the precise opposite of the “lifer” - the newly discovered species - that characterizes many bird outings.  This transition from “newly discovered” to “comfortably anticipated” is a fascinating one.  The joy of discovery matures and deepens into a less electric, but much richer, savoring of what we know.  Multiple trips make for deeper ties.

The last month of the Hebrew year is called Elul.  Tradition teaches that during Elul, the King is in the field.  What does this mean?  Think about an earthly king:  he lives and works in his castle, and approaching him requires an audience, permission, fancy clothes, perhaps a long journey, etc.  It’s hard.  But during one month, the king heads out into the fields, meeting his subjects where they live and work.  Even the humblest peasant has an opportunity to speak with royalty, without any preconditions.  It is a time of accessibility and ease.  Extending the metaphor, Elul is the time of year when the King comes to us, meeting us where we are, inviting and open.  We are all granted an audience as we move into the High Holy Day season.

For us, today, what does it mean to be accessible in this way?  For those whom we deeply love - our family, friends, and even coworkers - how do we genuinely open ourselves?  Can we surpass noblesse oblige and instead invite authentic interaction?  Ask yourself, “Do people experience me as surrounded by a ‘moat and walls’?”  Elul is a month of preparation and evaluation.  This year, in Elul, can we focus on removing barriers and enhancing accessibility - even at the risk of painful encroachment.  I envision a warm and inviting king, looking at his walk through the fields as the highlight of his year rather than an obligation.  As we anticipate Elul’s arrival, may we be inspired to make ourselves like the king and the Kingbird, a sure and expected delight.