The birds are ready for spring! Every time I walk, they are bursting with song. Everyone is, of course, singing their own aria. It's not as if it's a choir. But it is melodic.
The robin is into loud. He tries to drown out all the competition.
The cardinal is the male diva--whatever you would call that--"pretty, pretty, pretty." What an ego!
The red-winged black bird rolls his rs.
The cow bird has the most melodic song--like the sound of a brook in the woods. I guess it's God making up for its drab color and horrendous life style.
The chickadee is my kind of singer. It's all about a joyful noise! (The blue jays and crows agree. A trio.)
The mourning doves live up to their name--a soft sad coo that seems to echo through the air and travel for miles.
The goldfinch--who have not bloomed yet--sound like little kids twittering in the corner. Gossiping, I guess, about the other couples getting together. They don't plan to nest until late summer or early fall.
The woodpeckers and nuthatches remind me of the guy with the little pitch pipe. Only they're trying to make sure everyone is as off tune as they are, doing their own thing. (And occasionally one of them throws in a little drumming.)
There are other songs from other birds that in my ignorance I cannot identify. I need to get Mom outside to hear them. She'll know them all.
It is a cacophony. But put them all together: robincardinalredwingedblackbirdcowbirdchickadeebluejaycrowmourningdovewoodpeckernuthatchgoldfinch and it will quicken your step, lift your spirits, and put a song in your heart.
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