On Sunday evening (August 15), the catbirds welcomed me home with their cacophonic calls (listen to their song here), Monday morning as well. I heard their song, their scratchy utterances and smiled because catbirds may be my favorite bird of all and since they don’t winter here, I probably appreciate them more.
I became lost in the “feeling bads” last week and wasn’t being mindful as I might typically have been.
On Thursday, I noticed the silence. Well, not complete silence. There were cicadas, cardinals, finches, and later crickets but the song of the catbird was gone. In a blink, without a “see you next year,” my little flock of gray happiness flew south to winter in warmer temperatures, leaving me with no doubt that while the calendar said a month of summer still lingered, autumn was around the corner.
The mornings and evenings are not quite the same. So long, catbirds, until next year.