Songbird of The Night

Songbird of The Night

I’ve heard birds singing before, but not like this one!

I live in an area of the wetlands. I love it. I always enjoy the peace and quiet of the country, and this move-just as serene. The area is not overrun with surburban sprawl, so it is refreshing to sit on the porch, and watch nature unfold. It is better than going to a museum any day. At night, I leave my window open, just a bit, since my room is on the second floor. Our home is situated on a corner lot, in a covenant community. The residents take great care to ensure the uniqueness of their landscape and wildlife.For several nights, I fall asleep to the sound of birds singing. I have no idea what kind of birds they are; I just know that their cheerful music put me to sleep. This same music greets me in the morning when I wake up. Thankful for each day, I count it a blessing to be able to hear anything at all. We have to remember that being alive is a miracle in itself. To wake up mindful, limber, and able to take care of yourself-never take it for granted.So here I sleep and wake to the soothing sounds of God’s world-and one night, I hear a different sound. A game I play (we are never too old for games-keeps you smiling), is to figure out how many different birds I hear. Usually, there are five of them I can clearly identify. Yes, an ensemble singing a medley of songs. They sing, sometimes all night long (this does not bother me; I love the sound of the 5a.m. train passing through town as well). This one particular night, I hear a sixth voice. This bird’s music stands out above the rest. It is clear, loud, and distinct. This bird’s singing draws me. I climb out of bed, quietly, to sit by the window. The bird stops singing.To hear such melodious singing is thrilling. I am as still as I possibly can be, waiting to hear the singing again. The bird does not disappoint me, and sings once more. I close my eyes and allow myself to lie on the floor, letting the musical sounds flow through my body. I relax as my breathing slows down; my mind is quiet. I fall asleep. I notice that the other birds stop their singing when this one sings. I do not blame them. I do not know, but I believe it is a nightingale. I am trying to see this bird singing beneath my window, but I never see it. It is puzzling to me, so i go to the library (my favorite hangout), to find out what the name of this songbird of the night. That is why I say it must be a nightingale. My quick research reveals that it is the male who sings so lovely. It is mating. Wow, I think, it is a male, and not a female singing me to sleep. I want to do more research, but that is enough for now. I just want to enjoy my songbird’s company. But just as suddenly as “he” appears, I do not hear him anymore. I listen every night, for several nights, but to no avail. I realize how much I miss hearing that voice. I did not think to record any of those sounds from the birds, and my songbird. But I understand, and again, I am thankful, for that time. Sleep comes at night, and I rest, cherishing the memory.I will hear the nightingale, the songbird of the night, again.

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