I enjoy winter but hearing birdsong this morning set my soul on wings to soar with joy beyond that of snow falling like feathers. On the other hand, it could just be proximity. My favorite poem has always been the most recent.
To say final adieu to our snowy winter, I share this photograph.
The snow piled at either side of our driveway attained greatness in mid-March. I used our diesel Jetta – 50 mpg btw to provide scale. The photo looks a bit contrived, as if I used models, but this is really our mid-sized sedan parked by the snow. I shoveled most of the snow. At the time I shot this photograph, the snow stood higher than I about 6 foot 3, which meant I tossed snow skyward and wondered where the next bunch would go. Who needs a gym membership when you’ve got that going?
I post this now because enjoying winter includes whinging about winter. Not seriously whining but looking back and saying “I put up with this for why?”
Today, the first of May, winter feels finally over. The birdsong this morning felt like the official announcement. It snowed after I posted Winter Part 1, which caused a bit of hesitation …
The birds began about forty minutes before sunrise. As always, a sparrow opened the show. What he lacks in range and melody he makes up for in volume; a harsh, three note line followed by four edgy, staccato chirps – repeat – repeat – repeat; short it is but the world can hear it.
Eventually, others join in. As the first, faint grey line of false dawn backlit forest-top, a beautiful cacophony echoed between trees; each song unique and competing but connected in a weird, natural key. The cardinal’s ethereal whistle stands out for a moment. Then the warbling of the Robin catches my ear. Finches and other sparrows, more melodic than the opener, arrive. Finally, a surprise. The soft rising whistle of a chickadee; not the chick-a-dee-dee-dee that gives the name but his other, more elegant song.
Hooray, hooray for the first of May! For the next five months my mornings will begin with this feathered symphony.
© 2013 Karl May