The catbird cracks me up
May. 28th, 2004 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanYesterday evening in the twilight, I sat at the open window of my bedroom, eating a tempeh-bacon and tomato sandwich. Outside, a lot of birds were singing. Well, no, in fact, one bird was singing. It was the catbird again. Whistle, whistle, tweedle-eedle, warble, warble, trill trill -- wait, I'm a catbird -- skrawwwwwwwwk -- whistle whistle trill trill trill -- catbird, right, mmmeeeeeeeehhhhewwwwwwww -- whistle whistle whistle, skrawk.
Eventually a cardinal struck up its what-cheer song -- the catbird hasn't learned to do a cardinal yet. As it got darker, the robins started in. The catbird can do a robin, but it always ends the robin song with a loud shriek.
Because we wouldn't want to forget that it is, in fact, a catbird.
The catbird also sings at night. Sometime last week, I was sitting in my office closing things down for the night, right around 2 a.m. A glorious medley of birdsong burst out of the darkness. The catbird put in fewer catbird-specific noises this time, perhaps on the theory that none of its sources sings at night, so it needn't try so hard to differentiate itself. The catbird was singing from a mulberry sapling on the southwest corner of the house, right outside my second-story office window. When I went downstairs, I could still hear it through the open, ground-level, north-facing window of David's basement room. It was still going strong at 4 a.m., and merged smoothly into the dawn flood of birdsong.
I love the catbird.
Pamela
Eventually a cardinal struck up its what-cheer song -- the catbird hasn't learned to do a cardinal yet. As it got darker, the robins started in. The catbird can do a robin, but it always ends the robin song with a loud shriek.
Because we wouldn't want to forget that it is, in fact, a catbird.
The catbird also sings at night. Sometime last week, I was sitting in my office closing things down for the night, right around 2 a.m. A glorious medley of birdsong burst out of the darkness. The catbird put in fewer catbird-specific noises this time, perhaps on the theory that none of its sources sings at night, so it needn't try so hard to differentiate itself. The catbird was singing from a mulberry sapling on the southwest corner of the house, right outside my second-story office window. When I went downstairs, I could still hear it through the open, ground-level, north-facing window of David's basement room. It was still going strong at 4 a.m., and merged smoothly into the dawn flood of birdsong.
I love the catbird.
Pamela
no subject
Date: 2004-05-28 12:41 pm (UTC)I think mockingbirds are far more accomplished, but this particular catbird is pretty talented. Mercifully, we don't have many car alarms going off hereabouts.
Pamela