A Junco's Spring Come Hither Song

I was privy to a private performance, or so it seemed to me, of a male junco singing his Spring come hither song. My back was to the bird when the song began and immediately my attention was caught by the variety and delicacy of the song. I had no clue as to who sang just this way and turned to scan the leafless wisteria arbor from where the sounds were coming. He seemed so small for such long and fancy song that my eye continued for a moment to look further for another source before settling back on the definitely male junco.

By now moments had passed and he showed no sign of letting up giving my eyes time to see his tiny bird breast heaving in time to his song. On and on he sang an exquisite little ditty unlike any I’ve heard a junco give before. My ears were captive, my eyes riveted. My feelings surged with acknowledgement of my place as witness to a sacred event, and then it was over, he was done. The day resumed it’s heartbeat where it had left off, now sweeter, stronger, brighter than it had been those moments before.

Praise be the junco come hither song, my heart beats a harmony with your song.