Bird Song / by Chris Maynard


Most of the time winter wrens scurry around under ferns and logs deep in the woods. And they give  a tiny, short and abrupt, slightly harsh peep every once in a while if they are upset.  Which they usually are when I am trudging around where they live. But in their springtime, which seems to be about now in late winter, they get up in the tops of the forest trees and sing their hearts out. Long, happy, wonderfully melodious chirps that go on and on.  If their goal in doing this is to establish territory, they have a very different perspective of their songs that I do. So I finished this piece today with the feather-songs drifting down to the ground where I would be.