As I walked to my car yesterday I was cheered by a beautiful language I recognized but did not understand. On a tiny island in a sea of asphalt was a tree hosting a very persistent black bird.
I set my bag down, pausing to enjoy at least 25 different phrases in all variations calling out in a fast-paced spectrum of emotions. We had a little dialogue as he would answer back my attempts at mimicking his sounds.
Does he sing to you like that all day? I asked the man working under the shade of the tree. “What?” he said as he pulled his headset from his ears.