It is impossible to write a post on puffins without using the word “adorable.” But I will try. Also, let's talk about the callouses of community.

Birds know when it's time for the journey, exhibiting a restless anxiety to fly. Maybe they know the seasons better than your average college dad.

It's hard to explain what a birdwatching-and-the-Christian-faith retreat looks like. Perhaps you should experience it for yourself.

The skylark’s song keeps going as it hoists itself skyward, until the bird is just a distant speck in the sky. But it's my summer mascot for a different reason.

Change is inevitable, and sometimes the things we seek after have these pesky things called wings. How do we savor the wonder and pursue the permanent?

The mercy of Jesus is a pair of wings, "as a hen gathers her chicks" (Matthew 23:37). What does this mean? Is it a Malleefowl or a Mombrella?