Readers of this blog know I'm a bird-call fanatic. I can name them all, like the instruments in an orchestra. But there is one bird's call that is above the rest; the call of the Wood Thrush. This summer we have one in our neighborhood. He or she sings in the evening and in the early morning. In the mornings it has been blissful to wake up to the serenade. I can scarcely believe we are being treated to these concerts each day. We have our windows open and the song begins even as we are sleeping. It is so special to me to hear this song; one of nature's most amazing gifts.
Henry David Thoreau wrote this about the Wood Thrush, in 1853, "This is the only bird whose note affects me like music. It lifts and
exhilarates me. It is inspiring. It changes all hours to an eternal
morning." In his journals he wrote, "The wood thrush is a preacher who "makes a sabbath out of a week day." I agree completely.
Here is a Wood Thrush singing at the Mount Auburn Cemetery near Boston.
