the big bad bird sit
I vividly remember hearing birds for the first time at the age of 16. No, i did not grow up locked in a basement. I had just never payed attention before. And then, one day, after a mentor of mine told me about birding at summer camp where i was working, I heard them. Loud, clear, diverse. We sat around Linne Doran, and I relived that experience. It was cold, we were all tired, and the sun hadn’t risen yet. But the birds didn’t care. they were having a party, and we weren’t invited. We were just eve’s dropping on conversations, some we could understand, some we couldn’t, trying to recognize voices of party birds we had only met once or twice, if ever, in passing. still so many mysteries…