Bird Songs
That’s just the way it is. In summer.
When windows remain flung open.
When eyes stare open through the darkest, most forlorn hours.
When ears can’t help but hear the songs echoing through the
blackest hour before the dawn.
Bird songs.
I hear them.
Biologist though I claim to be, I can’t identify the species.
Can’t translate the lyrics or divine their meaning. Won’t even try.
No matter. No need.
I hear the songs echoing through the darkest hours of the darkest night.
There’s simply no need for me to beg for more.
* * *
When windows remain flung open.
When eyes stare open through the darkest, most forlorn hours.
When ears can’t help but hear the songs echoing through the
blackest hour before the dawn.
Bird songs.
I hear them.
Biologist though I claim to be, I can’t identify the species.
Can’t translate the lyrics or divine their meaning. Won’t even try.
No matter. No need.
I hear the songs echoing through the darkest hours of the darkest night.
There’s simply no need for me to beg for more.
* * *
posted by Jonas | 8/16/2009 05:54:00 AM
7 Comments:
I sometimes wonder as I get ready for work in the wee hours what birds are singing to me. But~ I have no need to know,, they just keep entertaining me even if I don't know their names! Pretty sweet of them isn't it?
Gorgeous marriage between prose and picture, Jonas.
Sometimes we don't need to name things, right? Just accept them. But even then, the hour is forlorn. This is not just a gift, it is a contemplation, of self and world. I'm liking it, Jonas. Liking it alot.
I've wondered about that, too. Sometimes I'm awakened before the first light by some very cheerful birds. I love that.
I think they're singing of the joy of being alive. As long as I hear the birds sing I know I can get through the day!
I'm going to sound like such a humbug, but what can I say, except it's just me.
I love the sound of birds singing but you and I both know it's biological. Their songs are about territory, fitness and sex. Of course we're not so different. We like to advertise our territory, our fitness and our willingness to have sex. I wonder if the birds watch us and just shake their heads, wondering why we don't just sing.
"I wonder if the birds watch us and just shake their heads, wondering why we don't just sing."
You're no humbug, Deb. Yes. it's true. Birds sing of territory, fitness and sex.
And, yes. We should be singing of much the same (and we do...as is evident in ANY rock concert).
Here's the thing that confounds and thrills me: The birds start singing about an hour before the dawn. As daylight breaks ever later in the summer, their summer song begins later...in lockstep with the dawn.
It kinda blows me away.
Then again, the American Indians had a wealth of sayings on this very same subject. They'd say stuff like "The birds know more than we can EVER know".
Methinks I know too little and the birds revel in WAY too much.
Apparently birds sing at dawn to announce that they have survived the night, they're not dead. I'm thinking that they know what an hour before dawn looks like in the sky, the amount of light, because they pay attention. Paying attention seems to be an ongoing theme for me this week. Had a dream this week in which I'm yelling at my brother to pay attention. Wondering what it is I'm supposed to being paying attention to. The dawn perhaps?
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