Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Singing in the Rain. A Mockingbird's Song



     It rained and poured all day. As I went about my chores, listening to the heavy downpour, I heard something  unusual. It was the sound of this happy fellow, singing his heart out. I went out to the porch and listened with amazement. When I realized he wasn't going anywhere, I came back inside to put on a sweater and get the camera. He stayed on one branch in the center of the tree and took turns facing each direction. Once in a while he ruffled his feathers as though he was annoyed with the rain on his head. Another time, he took an angry stab at a nearby crab apple. For the most part, I got the impression that he was on a mission and a major rain event was merely a glitch or an annoyance to him.
     Several thoughts ran through my mind while I listened. Who was he singing to? No other bird was answering in reply. Not that he took a breath to wait and listen for a reply. He rarely paused. And can a bird sing for this long without straining its tiny throat?  A few times he turned up the volume and sang very loudly. I also wondered if he was the adult who attacked me in the spring or is he one of their offspring? Perhaps he's  not related at all, but I do know he's been around our yard for several weeks.
     He continued to sing after I came back inside and he was still singing every time I checked the clock. I'm not sure how long he had started before I took notice, but my best estimate is that he sang for over two hours. To put it into context, this video is a little over 1 minute. He sang for 120 of them. The length of his song was enough to impress me. But the real contest is that he sang in the heaviest downpour of the day. (You can hear it on the video.) He was defying the rain and singing despite it. My intuition tells me he was simply singing a song of joy. 
     He stands out from the rest of the world today and I admire his tenacity. I vow to myself that even if he dive bombs me next spring, I will continue to adore him.

*It is 6:39 am. as I type this. I hear some tentative notes outside my window. Funny how he is now on this side of the house, where I am.