Singing Loud And Clear!

  For the longest time, one bird's song puzzled me.  Deep under the thatched marsh mats, a squeaky, trilling sound could be heard each morning.  The song almost reminded me of a squeaky wheel that was on my son's little red wagon some thirty-five years ago.  That wheel squeaked from the time we got the wagon and I never oiled it even though Pop tried so many times.  I informed Pop that it was my "security system"!  I always knew where my toddler was as long as I could hear that squeaky wheel!  The bird was a different story, however, as I never knew exactly where the song was being sung.  Yes, under the marsh mats was a general area but a huge area.   I figured it had to be some shore bird that kept far beneath the mats as protection.

  Then, one icy morning, I ventured to the pier to sit and observe.  Surely, the bird had to surface at some time and it seemed to greet the morn with its song on a daily basis.  I waited.  And waited. And waited.  From the sheer volume of the song, I figured this had to be a bird of some heft.  No tiny tyke could possibly sing that loud!  I was wrong.  Once the bird finished praising the morning's first light, the sound changed to a wee chipping.  Out popped a tiny head then the entire bird.  This was a Swamp Sparrow!  Goodness!  How in the world can those tiny lungs push out that loud song?  Mystery was solved, however, and I was pleased with the outcome as I love these little birds.  They are so resourceful and smart....and now I know they have a powerful song!

  The Swamp Sparrow blends well with its surroundings which gives it great protection as it flits through the marsh in search of food.  During the cold winter months, the small birds take protection from the elements under the marsh mats that were piled high during the summer.  Rarely does the tide get high enough to soak the mats during the winter months so the birds have a dry, snug home.  

  This afternoon, I ventured out long enough to head to the pier.  It had been raining all day but now only a slight drizzle muffled my footsteps.  As I neared the water's edge, a soft chipping could be heard.  Yep, my little friend, the Swamp Sparrow, was busy hunting any seeds or insects that could be found.  Soon, it would dart back beneath its shelter and spend the night in comfort.  It never ceases to amaze me how some of the tiniest creatures can survive in the harsh world of the marshes.  This little one seems to do well....I am glad.

And The Birds Sing

  Dawn comes to the Bayou with all of the birds singing praises. As the sky begins to lighten in the east, one after another bird will join in the chorus of welcoming the day.  Ornithologists claim that the birds do not sing because they are joyful but rather as a means of communicating.  I beg to differ.  To my way of thinking, birds sing to express themselves (joy being an expression) and call to communicate.  If you listen carefully, these are two very distinct sounds.  The trilling, warbling and chortling cannot be just for telling other birds some important information such as where a food source is located or that the house cat is now on the loose.  The sing-songy sounds are not alarms that the hawk is in the area nor are they from a female begging her mate to come relieve her from nesting duties.  It is quite evident that there are different calls for different situations.  The threatening calls of territorial rights sound much different than the alarm for a snake warning.  The communicating calls usually consist of tweets, chirps, squawks and squeals.  Compared to the melodic trilling, calls seem sharp and abrupt.  But, never mind what I think by just listening to my critter friends every day.  Scientists always know best.  (Did you detect a bit of sarcasm there?)

  With the rising sun, all diurnal birds let loose with their own version of welcoming a new day.  They sing praises that they survived the night and all its perils.  Now, they can face the day with a new attitude and new vigor.  I hear all of this as I watch the sun rise up over the pines. Usually, the blackbirds start the harmonious blend of notes and are soon joined by the mockingbirds and thrushes.  If one listens carefully, the warblers, cardinals, towhees, wrens and thrashers can be heard adding their musical notes to the symphony.  Far off in the distance a couple of crows and blue jays attempt their lyrical input.  All of their vocal efforts blend into perfect harmony of welcoming dawn.  Good morning, Sunshine, the new day has come!  Note...turn up the volume and enjoy what I hear each morn!  

Praise for the Morning!

  Daybreak is my favorite time of the day.  After a good night's rest, the world awakes to new possibilities.  If you ever observe the critters around you, it is evident that they, too, appreciate the new day.  All are praising the morning in their own way.  Even nocturnal critters, who are yawning and creeping into their slumber, welcome the rising sun. Others literally raise their song on high and welcome whatever life throws at them.  

  Yesterday as we were watching the lovely sunrise, a cormorant sat high on the post of my brother's pier.  With its wings outstretched and its beak pointed heavenward, the bird looked as if it, indeed, was singing praises for the rising sun.  Yes, I know this is a common position for these diving birds and that it helps them to dry their water laden feathers but, still, I imagine that the bird was happy for the new day....as we all should be.  

  Years ago, Eleanor Farjeon penned the lyrics to a hymn called "Morning Has Broken".  These lyrics run through my mind almost every morning as I am watching the sun rise above the pines and listening to life around me.  Sometimes, I actually start humming the tune.  It seems fitting.

"Morning has broken like the first morning.

Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.

Praise for the singing,

Praise for the morning,

Praise for them springing fresh from the word."