in new york in 2018 a black-capped chickadee
was audially captured for four minutes
and fifty-seven seconds
sounding nothing if not tired and bored
“here i/am now/[pause]/here i/am now/[pause]/
here i/am now/[pause]/here i/am now/[pause]/”
little johnnie four-note
with almost nothing to say
..
but isn’t it a miracle:
you can think of a bird, any bird
and do a search for “[bird] birdsong”
and in less than a minute
that bird will sing
only for you
The big leafy tree is full of birds
And many of them have something to say.
There are at least a hundred bird-voices.
They are all talking at once, filibustering, advancing arguments, proclaiming availability, squabbling over details, celebrating the rising of the Sun, denouncing Interlopers, and ruffling each other’s feathers.
Suddenly it calms down to a few. And unoccluded birdsong becomes finer than noise, sweet and fluidic.
A bird flies off.
Two birds begin a mating dance. One will later commemorate the occasion with a clutch of eggs.
Answering a summons from afar, many fly around
Then away.
One with Clay, Image and Text 