I’ve been bothered by thrush.
THRUSH Poetry Journal considers thrush songs to be among the most beautiful birdsong in the world. ‘We love that, and that is how we feel about poems,’ they say.
Thomas Hardy was feeling bleak when:
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
So my thrush has been calling just after dark and just before light for months. Not once did he let me see him. But now I got him. He was way higher up in an Aussie Bauhinia tree than where I’d been searching:
I’m still puzzled how he seems to hide himself here! I used to see them regularly at River Drive, usually on the ground, and not shy at all.
~~oo0oo~~
Now he’s everywhere! I’ve seen him every morning since. I got footage. Excuse the happy discordant background noise. That’s son Tommy coming up to give me a hug while I was filming, so very welcome!
~~oo0oo~~
Thanks to xeno-canto.org for the top recording of Turdus libonyana, the Kurrichane Thrush – – – – xeno-canto: ‘sharing birdsounds from around the world’ – what a lovely thing to do!