I didn’t see it at first.
I was just getting into my car in the WLRN parking lot when I heard the warbling. It seemed the bird song was carried along on the air in surround sound, with a resonance that my colleagues inside the building would envy.
I kept scanning the electrical poles and wires above the parking lot to see if I could spot it. It had to be there, because he was a born performer, this bird. What a ham! Despite the ruckus I was making settling into my driver seat, he just kept singing away.
“Good,” I thought. “Keep singing. I’ll follow your voice.”
Turns out, I didn’t have to go far. He was half hidden by a bit of greenery almost directly in front of me. I swung open the car door, grabbed my iPhone and started filming. All this activity still didn’t faze him.
It was such a thrill to see that tiny breast swell up with his ancient song, to hear that plaintive, solitary voice demand attention from the cars whizzing onto I-95 from downtown.
Before I saw him, I was a little downcast, as I usually am when the holiday season winds down. My whole attitude changed the second I heard the warbling. For while my bird is obviously not the storied partridge in a pear tree, his visitation still seems like, well ... a gift.
I confess there are times that I rail against this digital age we live in, but now I’m thankful for it. For now I can reach out to South Florida’s nature lovers for help in ID-ing my bird.
If you can recognize his song from the video below, can you tell us all about him?
Happy New Year!