The blackbird sings its song to a variety of accompaniments.
Yesterday morning, in relative silence after the huge rumbling,shaking and flashing thunderstorms which crashed over Melbourne overnight, the song was a tuneful counterpoint to the steady hissing of rain and tyres on the wet roads. I hoped the bird had been safely sheltered from the elements.
A few days ago, it was singing along to the arrhythmic hammering of the carpenters on the nearby building site. If I knew more about music, I think I could talk about jazz.
Sometimes, I hear it filtering through ‘builders’radio’ which is less than pleasant for me but I suspect that the bird doesn’t notice.
My favourite time to hear the simple, pure song is in the dark early morning when there is no light, just sound.