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We have a charming little book tersely titled Songbirds. The
right-hand pages show an illustration of a British songbird, the left-hand pages
contain a relevant poem or piece of prose.
The picture of a Common Blackbird is accompanied by:
O blackbird, what a boy you are!
How you do go it.
This quote is attributed to some quill-pushing old dude
called T. E. Brown.
To cut to the chase, I recently mentioned a vociferous male
blackbird that sings from atop a power pole fifty metres from the back door. I
mentioned it because it's the first singing blackbird we've noticed in the area
since mid-October.
At 5 PM today I was working in the back yard when the
vociferous bird landed on a power cable ten metres away and burst into song. And
he sang, and he sang, ad infinitum. He sang in three-second bursts,
paused for about seven seconds and issued forth again. Seventy-five
minutes later, when I went indoors, 'Boy' was still 'going it'.
Ensuing dinner-table chatter and clatter of clamorous
bratz, accompanied by the TV news, and me yelling, "Quite, girls! I want to
hear about Shane Warne's retirement!" cancelled out Boy's song. I looked out at
8:00 PM and the blackbird was sitting quietly on the cable resting his syrinx.
Sometimes, I wish my little minks would rest their syrinx.
John Layton
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