I
sat in a deck chair out in the countryside waiting for Mother Nature to show me
her best. I breathed in the tangy aromas of the autumn air, and listened to the
peace and quiet.
It
was too quiet. Only a few weeks before, the lake had been positively alive! An
absolute flurry of ducks, geese, grebes and any other bird that took a notion
to head for the water. The air had echoed with quacks and honks of all sorts,
and the sky had hummed and whirred with flocks of song birds. Now, only a few
very distant tiny black specks bobbed silently along the surface of the water.
Mostly the lake was still, quiet and vacant. Many of the birds have, clearly,
begun their migratory journeys.
Around
the deck, a pair of nuthatches bobbed about in the high branches of the nearby
trees. With the migratory birds nearly gone, it’s the little guy’s turn to
shine. On one corner of the railing, there was a bird feeder sprinkled with
seeds. Every few minutes, one of the nuthatches would work up the courage to
take a shot at it. Sometimes they’d hum towards it, right over my head, then,
at the last minute, they’d seem to change their minds, make a big, swooping
mid-air loop, and take off for the safety of the trees. But many times they’d
land on the edge of the feeder just long enough to grab a treat, and then flit
off just as quickly.
But
that was about the only action, other than the breeze.
Then
a relative stepped out on deck with a little black case and sat down next to
me. He didn’t know it, but he was about to make Mother Nature amazing!
He
opened his case and pulled out his melodica. Do you know what that is? It’s a
musical instrument. You blow into it to make it work, and play it like a piano.
“I’ll
probably chase them all away!” he joked, referring to the nuthatches. Then he
began to play. It was a quiet, gentle soothing tune.
I
had fully expected the birds to take off and vanish. After all, they had plenty
of places to hide, out there. Instead, much to my pleasure, they kept dancing
and snacking as though nothing had changed.
No,
wait. That’s not right. Something HAD changed. The birds honestly seemed to be
flitting and dancing with more energy than before. Was I imagining that? Hold
on! Now my two nuthatches had turned into three - - no four! Now they were
joined by some little chickadees! I hadn’t seen these guys in ages!
“Honk!
Honk!” This echoed across the still water. “Honk! Honk!” Now there were a bunch
of them. I had seen a few distant dark specks that looked big enough to be
geese, earlier.
“Hey!”
My relative paused a minute and listened, “They’re trying to join me!” Then he
resumed playing.
I
looked out to the water. High above the previously empty sky was suddenly
dotted with two or three little flocks fluttering back and forth. And way out
across the water, those wee little indistinguishable specks began to move.
First to the right, then they turned around and bobbed left, then right again,
closer and closer to us with each zig-zag, slowly moving closer and closer,
until they were close enough that, by their silhouettes, I could guess they
were Coots.
I
froze and listened. What had I just heard?
There
was a quieter spot in the melody my relative was playing and I could hear it
distinctly, that oh so familiar sound of the countryside.
“Mooooooo!!!!!!”
Yes.
It was true. A cow was trying to join the party!
One
of the little chickadees landed on top of a tired, wilted sunflower stalk right
in front of my relative, and looked right at him. The bird and the stalk bobbed
gently, almost in rhythm to the music.
Gee.
Who knew Mother Nature liked music so much?
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