Last evening I was sitting at my kitchen table working on a crafty project. In the spring of the year, before the weather gets too hot, I like to keep my front windows open a bit. Outside my living room window I suddenly heard an awful racket. I knew that it was a bird, but the chirping sounds he was making were so loud that they startled me.
When the noise continued for a few minutes, I finally went to see what kind of bird was sitting outside my window and to see if I could tell what he was yelling at. I expected to see something the size of a crow, but there on the corner of the ledge outside the window sat an itty, bitty sparrow, yelling for all he was worth. He would lean forward and sing like mad, sit back, take a few breaths and do it again.
Finally a little female sparrow joined him on the ledge. He was quiet for a time and then flew down to a branch in the little tree just outside my windows. There he sat, yelling loudly again for a minute or two. The little female finally joined him in the tree and the serenade stopped.
Ah, spring. Love is in the air, even for sparrows.
And it seems to take very little to amuse me.
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