|
Kathy’s Garden Writing |
|
LATE NIGHT ENTERTAINMENT The mockingbird is back. I know because he kept me and my dog awake last night. My husband, as usual, snored through the show. I rather enjoyed it (the birdsong, not the snoring). The dog got disgusted with both, abandoned guard duty in front of the open window, and snuck out of the duet before the final curtain. This traveling troubadour calls on us each year, since the cherry trees matured. The trees are Montmorencies, known for their prolific harvest and as an excellent pie variety. “Good choice,” I told myself, as we planted them in preparation for our permanent relocation to the farm. Warm, sweet-tart cherry pies straight from the oven, perhaps a la mode – one vision of country life that inspired our move. However, once the first blush appears on the fruit, our uninvited guest gorges all day and entertains all night. The really disconcerting part is that he leaves us nothing but cherry pits still attached to the tree – not the price of admission to his nightly concerts I had anticipated. I’ve decided to learn more about this Pavarotti of the bird world. The mockingbird’s Latin name is Mimus polyglottos, or “many-tongued mimic” (although glutton comes to mind as well). His range has been moving from the Southern states, into parts of the Northeast. Although primarily an insect-eater, mockingbirds also love fruit. An unattached male usually does all the nighttime singing, trying to attract a mate. He may sing up to 200 different bird songs, throwing in other sounds he’s learned like screechy gates and traffic noise. One birder suggested that this male courtship meets with success because the females in the area want to get a good night’s sleep. Now let me describe last night’s performance. His first number was an imitation of the spring peepers that twitter by the pond; I even thought I heard a “ribbit, ribbit” in his rendition. Then he ran through every variety of birdsong I’ve ever heard, and some variations that were new to me, perhaps of his own composition, or perhaps the calls of Southern birds I have not had the pleasure of meeting. I also detected barking, and even what sounded like snoring. Why, you might ask, would I have any interest in this noisy prankster? Well, how often do we get to lie awake at night with such a captivating diversion? I truly marvel at his skills as an impersonator. No counting sheep for me, when I can listen to such talented late night entertainment. But what about my stolen cherries? Yes, I loved the vision of homemade cherry pies dancing in my head when I planted the trees, but have you ever tried pitting hundreds of cherries all at once, as they ripen just when the heat and humidity intensify? I have experimented with every gadget made, and none prevents oozing, sticky juice from running down my arms, soaking my clothes, and attracting bees and wasps. So I would much rather savor the mockingbird’s choral repertoire, and avoid pitting all those messy cherries, than eat a few cherry pies. Who needs extra calories at my age anyway? Sometimes conflict resolution is rather easy. Maybe life itself mocks us when we rail “fruitlessly” against its surprises. Kathleen Arcuri Published July 1, 2007 – The Danville Daily Item |