As I sat inside, I heard a sweet and very distinctive melody; so clear, as if the singing bird was right inside the house with me. I listened again trying to pinpoint the location. I did.
A small Carolina Wren sat upon a fence post on the mountain side of the house within feet of the door that opens onto the deck. The small bird would sing a short stanza, stop, and sing again. Each note was loud and pure, coming together as a most beautiful song.
I watched the little, brown bird intently as each note came forth from a wide opened beak. That little bird sang with enormous spirit and love.
While enjoying the song, I also paid special attention to the coloring of this modest, cheerful bird. His feathers were magnificent, not so much a unique color; but in a way the browns blended with rusts and black and white. The tail looked, to me, like a checkerboard made up of brown and black - the identifying physical feature for me.
But, it is the engaging melody that conveys that the Carolina Wren is within my vicinity. I do not have to see this bird to smile. I only have to hear it.
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