I might be in the minority when it comes to sparrows. I feel sorry for them. Growing up surrounded by bird lovers, I heard many a lament about the number of sparrows dining on suet and birdseed that was intended for the chickadees, cardinals and finches. Only the squirrels were hated more for this infraction.

I don’t mind them. In fact, I find their chatter to be happy and amusing. Sure, they may not be picky about where they get their food or build their nests, but they’re always in sight and always in groups of friends. They’re not flashy like the crimson cardinals, but they are pretty in their own special way. It’s hard to tell because they’re usually a brown blur of twitters and wings.

I took the above photo on Christmas Eve. A dozen or so were sitting in a bush, chattering gleefully and didn’t appear to mind that I was close by, carefully focusing the camera. I love the black and gold splashes on the wings, the contented squint of the eyes. They were the only birds I noticed that day, embodying the excitement of the Christmas season.

They are proof that there is beauty in every plain or commonplace thing if you simply pause and look closer. The camera is optional.