sing a new song
Come walk with me early on a spring morning. A cacophony of bird song fills the air. I say “cacophony,” because to my untrained ear it somewhat reminds me of an orchestra tuning up – lots of sounds that don’t make much sense or have any melody. We notice that as we advance into one bird’s territory its oft-repeated song grows louder and louder and then fades away as we move on into another bird’s space. Occasionally I have had the privilege of going out with a birder who has an intimate knowledge of bird calls. Without having to see the bird, my friend can identify numerous species, picking the individual bird out of the bewildering array of calls. Much as an experienced conductor knows the sound of every instrument in the orchestra and can hear if they are playing their line correctly, a good birder can pick out a rare bird’s call even when it is jumbled in with all the other common morning songs.
One bird I have learned to recognize by sound is the common house wren. I hear its loud, energetic burst of melody long before I can spot its tiny body with quivering throat perched in a garden shrub, singing its heart out. When at last I spot the little brown bird with its relatively long curved bill and perky upturned tail and compare it to the loud song filling the air, I wonder how such a tiny body can pump out so much energetic music. It sits on a branch and chortles its song several times before quickly moving to another spot to repeat the joyful chorus. I find it interesting that the Chippewa Indians named this little bird O-du-na-mis-sug-ud-da-we-shi, meaning “A bird noise for its size.” How appropriate! The male can even sing this song in flight and while landing without missing a syllable. And the repetition is amazing. They often perform the song three or four times a minute – sometimes even more.