I was painting in my garage, a bird was calling loudy out side of the garage door, then it started to knock on it. I opened the garage door, a bird flew in, landed on a hinge with a worm in it’s mouth. It flew to the back of the garage dropped the worm and left. It was very hot and muggy in the garage. Today after a thunderstorm barreled through, I opened the garage door to cool off the garage, two birds flew in. Not sure if there is a nest in the garage, don’t hear any peeping.
Did you even know a bird to call to you like that?
The song of the thrush explodes my heart every single time.
Robert Penn Warren captures some of that feeling in the poem “If Snakes Were Blue”, which some here might appreciate –
If Snakes Were Blue
Robert Penn Warren
If snakes were blue, it was the kind of day
That would uncoil in a luxurious ease
As each mica-bright scale exposed a flange of gold,
And slowly, slowly, the golden eyes blinked.
It was the kind of day that takes forever—
As though minutes, minutes, could never be counted—to slide
Among the clouds like pink lily-pads floating
In a crystal liquid pure enough to drink.
And there was no distinction now between
Light and shadow except the mystic and faint
Sense of adaptation of the iris,
As light diminished and the first star shone,
And the last veery, hidden in a thicket of alder,
Thought it would break its heart perhaps—or yours.
Let it be yours, then. For such gentle breaking
In that ambiguous moment could not be
Less than a blessing, or the kind of promise
We give ourselves in childhood when first dawn
Makes curtains go gold, and all night’s dreams flood back.
They had guaranteed our happiness forever.
And in such a way promises come true
In spite of all our evil days and ways.
True, few fulfillments—but look! In the distance lift peaks
Of glittering white above the wrath-torn land.
Soul-O is into it. My speakers didn’t pick up anything — antique as they are — but at least I can hear the feathered choir from our little woods, along with an occasional chuckle from the squirrels.
Good morning Jude,
How lovely, that sound to wake up to.
Here, for the past month I’m woken up with the sounds of road work machinery and voices of th workers. We’re getting new paved road and new sidewalks. They start at 7:30. I’ll be thankful when they’re finished. I will be able to have a sidewalk that’s usable for my electric wheelchair and not have to use the road to get places. Enjoy your peace and quiet and the lovely Thrush song.
Blessings.
I love the echo your outside space creates for the birds when they sing. It’s like you turned up the reverb dial. Soul-o, the sound engineer approves I think.
Have a great weekend.
I was painting in my garage, a bird was calling loudy out side of the garage door, then it started to knock on it. I opened the garage door, a bird flew in, landed on a hinge with a worm in it’s mouth. It flew to the back of the garage dropped the worm and left. It was very hot and muggy in the garage. Today after a thunderstorm barreled through, I opened the garage door to cool off the garage, two birds flew in. Not sure if there is a nest in the garage, don’t hear any peeping.
Did you even know a bird to call to you like that?
Never, but it seems there might be a nest somewhere.
We used to have songbirds but the bird flu eliminated most of them. Thankfully still have the blue jays and mockingbirds.
Love that Soul-O stare!
Wow, really?, no effects of the bird flu here that I know of
❤️
Peace with the unplugging.
The song of the thrush explodes my heart every single time.
Robert Penn Warren captures some of that feeling in the poem “If Snakes Were Blue”, which some here might appreciate –
If Snakes Were Blue
Robert Penn Warren
If snakes were blue, it was the kind of day
That would uncoil in a luxurious ease
As each mica-bright scale exposed a flange of gold,
And slowly, slowly, the golden eyes blinked.
It was the kind of day that takes forever—
As though minutes, minutes, could never be counted—to slide
Among the clouds like pink lily-pads floating
In a crystal liquid pure enough to drink.
And there was no distinction now between
Light and shadow except the mystic and faint
Sense of adaptation of the iris,
As light diminished and the first star shone,
And the last veery, hidden in a thicket of alder,
Thought it would break its heart perhaps—or yours.
Let it be yours, then. For such gentle breaking
In that ambiguous moment could not be
Less than a blessing, or the kind of promise
We give ourselves in childhood when first dawn
Makes curtains go gold, and all night’s dreams flood back.
They had guaranteed our happiness forever.
And in such a way promises come true
In spite of all our evil days and ways.
True, few fulfillments—but look! In the distance lift peaks
Of glittering white above the wrath-torn land.
soooo lovely… makes me want to go play with some watercolors… thanx margaret! x
Soul-O is into it. My speakers didn’t pick up anything — antique as they are — but at least I can hear the feathered choir from our little woods, along with an occasional chuckle from the squirrels.
Songbirds can fix most anything, for a moment anyway 🙂
Love to youse.🥰
love this… love u…. happy unplugging!!! x
Lovely! No thrushes here, sadly. But I wake up to the robin, soon joined by towees and chickadees. And eagles, if I’m lucky.
We have Hermit Thrushes here. Similar flute like song and hard to see. I love hearing them singing in the woods.
I hear wood thrush much less often than hermit thrush. Both are beautiful. Is Soul-o going out yet, I wonder?
Ha, my comment ended up under this comment somehow. Oh well, makes sense!
Pretty birdsong!
I don’t think we have those here on the NW Florida coast.
Soul-o looks intrigued!
💙
Good morning Jude,
How lovely, that sound to wake up to.
Here, for the past month I’m woken up with the sounds of road work machinery and voices of th workers. We’re getting new paved road and new sidewalks. They start at 7:30. I’ll be thankful when they’re finished. I will be able to have a sidewalk that’s usable for my electric wheelchair and not have to use the road to get places. Enjoy your peace and quiet and the lovely Thrush song.
Blessings.
Love waking up to that beautiful music!
they sing here, too
Love Woodland Song. Have a good weekend, Jude!
Made Timber perk up. 🙂 Love listening to the birds…it’s just starting here, sunrise.
I love the echo your outside space creates for the birds when they sing. It’s like you turned up the reverb dial. Soul-o, the sound engineer approves I think.
Have a great weekend.
Perfect July song 🎶
Thank you Jude, that was lovely.
I so miss the thrush we used to hear up north.
First time to hear a Wood Thrush sing. Thank you!