When you hear birds singing, do you listen to what they are saying?
I’m no birder. Not me. I can only identify the most obvious – blue jay, cardinal, nuthatch… Even so, my spirits lift every spring when I hear the birds singing again.
I now recognize some of the bird calls even if I can’t match call to bird or identify many of the birds I see.
One bird I call the ‘bath tub bird’ because its burbly, warbly call sounds like one of those old-fashioned whistles that kids used to play with in the bath, filling it with water before blowing. The quick chit-chit-chit of a pair of birds living in the blackberry bushes is a special delight. And the clear liquid song of another bird high in the maple trees.
This last weekend I decided to try and find out what some of these birds are. A lesson in writing humility. Continue reading
Yesterday, at the National Arts Gallery in Ottawa, we were walking up the ramp along the glass wall to the galleries behind two young boys with their mother.
Susi Lovell 