Rich, bold, glorious notes & nesting in that hummock hollow.
Song Sparrow is my first guess when I see a streaky bird
flit, flutter, perch & lean back to belt out a song,
the 3-note intro clinches the ID,
but it could also describe 3-year old Claire.
She makes nests in her bed, leans back & belts it out;
sometimes with her feet in the early morning,
sometimes with her utterances:
rich, bold, & deliciously glorious.
Surely not, John McPhee.
The tremolo yodel twixt Common Loon mates is NOT a laugh of the insane.
I listened from the edge of a secluded pond–Private! No Trespassing!
But CLs don’t read, just emit ethereal enunciations,
like the back & forth between Lydia, Chloe, Luke, William, Claire, Hannah
& the elders as they ply the waters of Long Pond.
Call & connect.
It makes me laugh & reminds me to love. Insane?
Oops…forgot one of them. See lower right.
Echoes of little kid chortles, cries, chats, & chases.
I still hear them…AND their screams,
like the KAAAHH! of that young Raven who dashed by me in the woods,
rallying his sibs to come play drop-stick-and-then-dive-to-retrieve-it-in-midair,
even though he still needs his parents to feed and clothe,
well, not clothe,
but teach him the ways of the world while they pick his nits.