When the Soul Needs Healing, Go Birding - Oct 24, 2025

What do you do when your body is aching, your mind is swirling, and your soul feels heavy?

You go birding.

Well, at least I do.

This time, I packed up my camera gear and my six-month-old kitten, Finnegan, and headed to the farming flats of a nearby community. My hope—though not an expectation—was to see whether the snow geese or swans had returned on their path of migration.

As soon as I arrived, I noticed something circling high above. The sun was glaring, the clouds were thick and dark, and all I could see was a silhouette. I pulled safely over on a quiet farm road, lifted my 600 mm lens, and waited for the light to shift. And then, as the sunlight broke through at just the right angle, there it was—a bald eagle!

Eureka!

I snapped a few quick shots, not even caring if they were sharp. I’d witnessed the power of an eagle in flight—and that was enough.

Spiritual message: The eagle always shows up for me in moments when I need clarity and courage. It reminds me to rise above my worries, to see things from a higher perspective, and to trust that even when storms gather, light will eventually break through.

The eagle seemed to glide down the road ahead of me, so Finnegan and I followed. But something felt odd. The fields that were usually alive with hundreds of European starlings and geese were eerily quiet. Not a chirp, not a flutter. Even the small birds were gone.

I drove toward an old forestry path, parked, and let Finnegan stretch his little legs. Then I caught movement—a big brown bird flying from tree to tree. A hawk, I thought.

And then, suddenly, he headed straight toward me. I clipped Finnegan close and raised my camera just in time to catch him soaring overhead. A red-tailed hawk! The light was too harsh for detail, but his power and grace were undeniable.

Did You Know? – The Red-Tailed Hawk

When you spot a Red-Tailed Hawk gliding from tree to tree or circling above an open field, it’s not random—it’s reconnaissance. These hawks are master observers, scanning the ground for small mammals, snakes, or even other birds. They use their broad wings to soar effortlessly on thermals, conserving energy while watching everything below. In farming areas, they’re nature’s pest control—keeping rodent populations balanced while embodying quiet focus and precision.

Spiritual message: The red-tailed hawk often appears when it’s time to pay attention—to listen to the messages around me and within me. It’s the messenger of intuition and awareness. Its appearance told me, “You’re being guided. Keep your eyes open. You’re not alone.”

I tucked Finnegan safely back into the car and continued exploring another backroad. That’s when I spotted a small bird with a white belly perched alone on a wire.

I lifted my camera—a kestrel!

I’ve been hoping to photograph this little falcon for months, but they’re usually too quick for me. This time, he posed perfectly, even giving me a cheeky over-the-shoulder “bird-butt” shot before taking off. My heart buzzed with excitement.

Did You Know? – The American Kestrel

The American Kestrel might be small, but don’t let its size fool you—this tiny falcon is a fearless hunter. Perched on wires and posts, it scans for insects, mice, and small birds, then dives with lightning speed. Kestrels can hover mid-air, fluttering like a hummingbird to lock in on prey. Those farm fields and open roadsides you see them along? That’s their hunting paradise. Their mix of grace and grit is a reminder that strength often comes in small packages.

Spiritual message: The kestrel symbolizes precision, courage, and joy in small victories. Its playful yet fierce energy whispered to me, “Be patient—timing is everything. Celebrate this moment. You are exactly where you’re meant to be.”

I decided to check another part of the flats, a stretch known for its rich bird life. At first, I thought the orange shapes in the distance were pumpkins waiting for harvest—until they started to move.

Hundreds of Canada Geese and Mallards covered the fields.

Their chatter and quacking filled the air with joy. (It’s no secret that the sound of ducks and geese is one of my favorite things in the world—my phone’s ringtone even quacks!)

Spiritual message: Ducks and geese speak of connection, community, and emotional grounding. Their return was a gentle reminder that life moves in cycles, that even after absence comes reunion, and that comfort can be found in the familiar sounds of home.

As I drove further, I suddenly spotted another bald eagle, perched proudly on a power pole. He seemed utterly unbothered by my presence, scanning the fields below.

Then he turned his head sharply in one direction—and so did I.

Did You Know?

When a Bald Eagle is sitting in a farmer’s field, it’s not just resting—it’s doing serious raptor business! Eagles are opportunistic hunters who perch on power poles or fence posts to survey open ground for ducks, geese, small mammals, or carrion. A quiet farm field offers the perfect vantage point to spot movement and swoop down when the moment’s right. Even in farmland, the eagle reigns as a patient observer, mastering the art of timing and perspective.

That’s when I saw him: a Northern Harrier Hawk, a new species for me!

He was fast, skimming the fields in hunting mode. I barely had time to adjust my settings, but I fired off shots as he circled me. At one point, he hovered motionless against the wind—focused, intent, magnificent.

Did You Know? – The Northern Harrier

The Northern Harrier hunts with elegance and focus, gliding low over fields with wings held in a graceful V. Unlike most hawks, it relies heavily on hearing as well as sight to locate prey hidden in tall grass. Males are ghostly pale, females deep brown, but both share that signature owl-like face that helps them channel sound. When you see one hovering in the wind, you’re witnessing pure patience in motion—a dance between instinct, wind, and willpower.

Spiritual message: The harrier embodies focus and grace under pressure. It reminded me that even when life feels chaotic, I can hover—stay still in the wind—until the next right move becomes clear. The contrast between the hunter and the cat was nature’s way of showing the delicate balance of life, light, and shadow.

Later, as I reviewed the photos, I noticed something unexpected in the background: a black-and-white cat crouched in the weeds, right where the harrier had landed. It was a haunting image—beautiful and bittersweet. Cats may look peaceful in a field, but they’re skilled hunters, and birds often use these same farm fields to rest and feed during migration. It’s a good reminder of why it’s so important to keep cats indoors—unless they’re working barn cats—so our feathered travelers can safely continue their journey.

Did You Know? – The Hidden Hunters

Outdoor cats kill an estimated 100 to 350 million birds every year in Canada alone. Even well-fed cats hunt by instinct, targeting tired or ground-feeding birds that use farm fields and backyards as rest stops during migration. Keeping cats indoors—or limiting outdoor time to leashed walks or enclosed “catios”—helps protect both wildlife and cats themselves. Barn cats, however, play a different role: they help farmers manage rodents without disrupting the delicate balance of bird life that shares the land.

Moments later, the eagle took flight again, soaring high until it disappeared into the clouds.

All of this unfolded within just one hour—right in an urban farm area not far from my apartment. By the time I returned home, my pain felt lighter, my mind calmer, and my heart full. That’s the power of nature. When I’m out there—camera in hand, eyes on the sky—everything else fades away. My focus sharpens, my senses heighten, and I feel electricity racing through me.

It’s healing. It’s magic. It’s life reminding me to look up, breathe, and keep exploring.

Lessons from the Sky

Each bird that crossed my path that day carried a message from something greater—reminders whispered through wings. The bald eagle reminded me to rise above pain and see from a higher perspective, to trust that even when storms gather, light still finds its way through. The red-tailed hawk urged me to stay alert to guidance, to listen to my intuition as I navigate uncertainty. The kestrel reminded me to find joy in small victories, to move lightly yet bravely through change. The ducks and geese grounded me in belonging and cycles—proof that even after absence, life returns. And the northern harrier showed me the power of patience and stillness, that hovering in the wind can be an act of grace. Together, they taught me that healing doesn’t come all at once—it comes in feathers, flight, and fleeting moments that awaken something ancient within the soul.