This morning, I could distin-
guish five unique voices in the
bird chorus. They seemed to be
having a conversation, speak-
ing politely -- one at a time. One
voice stood out, closer to me
and more powerful than the oth-
ers. I did something I do a lot
and enjoy: I analyzed the pat-
tern in the repetition of long and
short phrases of the bird’s song,
as well as the variation in note
choices. It’s the singer/songwrit-
er in me to hear birdsongs this
way. After all, they are compos-
ing. There is an environmental
purpose to their singing even as
their songs inspire generations
of music composers.
I relaxed into the moment, lis-
tening and memorizing the short
melody of the stand-out bird.
NJ STAGE - ISSUE 51
The sound grew closer, and I be-
gan to make a song of it on the
spot. The bird’s song was not a
cliché pop melody, and afraid
I might forget a note of it later
on, I began identifying the in-
terval from one note to the next
intending to write it down once I
got to my piano.
Suddenly the singing stopped.
And a tiny bird hopped from the
top step of the long staircase to
my deck….and it stood in front
of my chair. It was so tiny and
beautiful. I wished I could hold
it. It paused and looked at me
as to have personally delivered a
song right into my lap. And then
it flew away.
At the bottom of this page is
what the little bird gave me. w
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