Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7)
Chickadees don’t give a rip about the stock market! That’s just one of many things I love about this wonderful little creature.
So instead of sitting inside watching my retirement account rise and fall, I like to go outside and watch my favorite bird—a creature that owned this country long before Wall Street!
They were with the starving Pilgrims their first year in the Plymouth Colony. They were around the campfires at Valley Forge. They were picking seeds amid the din of Gettysburg. They were sometimes handfed by Civilian Conservation Corps workers during the Great Depression. They 
watched FDR pondering his war decisions at Camp David (then called Shangri-la!). Daily they visit the trees around the lonely crash site of Flight 93. And there they are today in my now leaf-bare Juneberry tree.
I love chickadees because they live life with gusto. They’re small, fragile, and vulnerable—especially to the northern goshawk who loves to visit my bird lot every winter, pursuing sparrows and juncos into the shrubs with such vigor that snow cascades down on prowler and prey alike. After the threat has passed, who are the first to arrive back at the feeder? The chickadees—even while feathers are still flying!
Their boldness is a wonder—a boldness my oldest son and I experienced at a camp a couple decades ago. Seeing a few of them in a pine tree nearby, I told Greg to pick a few peanut pieces out of his Snickers bar, place them in the palm of his hand, and walk slowly toward a low hanging bough. It was hardly a minute before one of the little birds landed on his hand to grab a treat. I had my camera with me, so I instructed Greg to hold really still so I could capture the event on film. Looking through the eyepiece, I saw one land again and then disappear before I could trip the shutter. But I held the camera still, thinking it would return soon—which it did, but not to my son’s hand: through the camera I saw Greg smiling and pointing toward me. I slowly lifted my head and found the bird perched on my telephoto lens!
Neither of us will ever forget the joy of the wonderful feeling a human being has when he is trusted by vulnerable wild creatures.
Here’s my take on chickadees: Threats surround them everywhere. Most other birds outweigh them dramatically. If they had to stop and worry about all the risks and threats, life would be miserable for them; so they seem to say, “Darn the hawks. Full speed ahead!” They know life is a risk, but that’s not going to stop them from enjoying it. It 
seems that in their little spirits they have somehow heard these comforting words: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.” They are valuable to their Creator—but even more valuable to Him are we who were made in His image. If He takes care of them, He’ll take care of me.
So whenever the stock market takes a dip and I see my retirement savings threatened, it’s probably good for me to go outdoors and be preached at by the chickadees.
[Photo sources: Cornell Lab of Ornithology and Wikipedia]
December 2nd, 2009 at 12:57 pm
Our Carolina Chickadee looks a lot like the one in your pic, but I believe yours may be a Black Capped Chickadee only because the range of both usually does not overlap. But whichever it is, the Chickadee is one of the favorites of my wife and I.
She keeps the bird feeder at “the ready” for these wonderful little creatures. She has said on several occasions how wonderful it would be to touch a chickadee. When she sees this article, she’ll probably try what you all did.
Several autumns ago, as I was taking some time off from work, I was watching a chipmunk building his underground cache of acorns, etc. in preparation for the oncoming cold weather. So, I shelled some pecans, and put some near his retreat center. He was excited and so I made a trail of pecans back to our porch. He got every one. So I put out a trail every day and put the trail up my leg to my knee, and by the end of the week, that creature was perched upon my knee enjoying his daily delight of pecans.
That is a joy to remember, and as you say, its a wonderful thing to be trusted by these creatures.
Bob
December 2nd, 2009 at 3:15 pm
Bob,
I had the same experience at an overlook in Bryce Canyon NP—only the chipmunks there had already been trained!
Another thing to try is to stuff some of your or your wife’s clothes with straw and put them on a lawn chair in a seated position. Put a pan or feeder of some sort on the “lap” with the food you like to feed them and let them become accustomed to getting their treats there. After about a week, I’m told, you can exchange the straw man for yourself, sit very still, and they will eat out of your hand or pan. From that point on, whenever either of you wants that thrill, don similar clothes, “and they will come.”
Dean
December 3rd, 2009 at 10:38 am
Dean, I will join with you and Bob in a love for chickadees. Every morning as I go to feed the many birds and other creatures that come to my feeding places, I have a conversation with the chickadee.
They always say “chickadee dee dee.” I always repeat and so the conversation goes back and forth as they boldy fly in to feast on the first mornings feeding.
I also have an abundace of gray slated Juncos. Which we always have called Phoebes because they seem to say. Feebee, feebee. My great grandmothers name being Phoebe, they sound as tho they call out her name.
Both seem too small for the hawks that frequent the feeding area, but not too small for cats. My neighbors and I set live traps for the cats but no matter how many we cathch they keep coming in.
Steve