A Chickadee’s song
Enlivens the city with
Nature’s rite of spring
The tender lament
Sweetly rises and pierces
Noisy human space
Westlake Park, in downtown Seattle, is a concrete park spread over a large triangular half block . There are about 35 deciduous trees planted mostly in the middle in neat rows that form a square, indicative of an unimaginative man made ‘natural’ area. I don’t think of this park as harboring any wildlife; cement and brick make up the ground cover.
However, last month, on a mild February early morning, I was walking across the park on my way to work. As I approached the bare trees I heard a chickadee singing. The call was a slow somewhat mournful tune, a distinctive common call of spring. I stopped in my tracks to listen; how lovely to hear the bird song over the din of a city awakening.
I stood and listened, transfixed, until the urgency of getting to work jolted me aware. I never saw the little chickadee, adding to the magic of hearing the song. I was touched by the grace of the wild in the city; by the little bird’s efforts at learning how to be heard in a noisy human world. I continued to hear it sing as I walked away and around the corner.
Research of birdsong in the city has revealed that birds have learned to change their songs in order to be heard above noisy human activity. City birdsong is higher pitched, making it easier to sing louder, therefore maximizing the chance of securing a mate. Clever.
That little chickadee made my day. I was grateful for the little birds gift that made my walk to work a wawndering walk.
Take care, be aware, the sound of spring is in the air.
WAWNDER 