It's still chilly, but I sleep with the bedroom window open just enough to let in the morning sounds. It's early in the season still, so that every birdsong feels like a luxury. I'm a heavy sleeper, but the robins and cardinals rouse me from the warm covers in a much better mood than the blaring alarm clock does.
I think the robins are the first to begin with tentative calls before the sun has brought very much light to the morning. Then it's the cardinals and the sparrows who call. As the light increases and the birds are encouraged by one another, calls turn to song. This morning I heard a white-throated sparrow singing his "Old Sam Peabody" and smiled to myself as I enjoyed a last few moments of slumber.
The rest of the morning routine is done in haste. I might spend a few minutes standing by the kitchen window with a cup of coffee watching the birds at the feeder, but by that time the house sparrows and starlings are up as well and any singing from the more talented birds is drowned out by their arguing over a perch at the free food buffet.
New birds and new songs will add themselves to the dawn celebration in the coming weeks; to the point that it becomes difficult to distinguish any one voice from the chorus of birds echoing one another in the gala that is spring. Maybe there's one in particular that you listen for to know that the season has finally arrived, or maybe you enjoy the effect of so many voices singing the same song of delight but to a different tune. I could tell you what I think, but I'd rather know what you like to hear outside your window that says Spring.
a return Visit
1 year ago