Power Line Serenade

 

I woke up at KC's. He was up but Rachael was still in bed so I folded the blankets and took my cup of coffee outside so that she could rouse herself in her own space (it's very nice, but very small). I scared up a bird that flew immediately onto the power line to the house; a wren perhaps, I could only see it in silhouette.

Amidst the morning cacophony I could distinguish this bird's contribution because he put his body into the act of singing. I counted ten elements to his song. It started with two sharp notes that never varied, but what followed was never the same except that there was always one element with a tremolo.

Although I could distinguish the same pattern coming from round about it seemed that my bird never received an answer. The poor guy was trying different combinations to unlock a mate, and failing. Or so I projected onto the scene.

I have to laugh at myself. “Go away!” I keep singing, as I try to say, “Come hither.”

Say Levine. I'm good with it.