The Call of the Chorus

I tend to wake up early in the morning. At this time of year, it’s no hardship at all, because I can lie in bed, listening to a concert like this …

These are moments of uncomplicated happiness. However, by now, almost mid-June, it’s tinged with sadness too, because I know that we’ve less than a month to go before this morning serenade quite simply … stops.

So when Rebecca gave us our monthly marching orders of a poem, one about about a bird in our part of the world, I knew I didn’t want to fall in line. I didn’t want to single out the blackbird, robin, thrush, chiff-chaff, wren … whatever. I wanted to celebrate them all – all those songbirds who contribute to this morning symphony of joy.

Dawn.
The sun creeps above the horizon …
Birds awaken.
Carolling, calling, crooning, chirping, chanting - 
a clamorous cacophony welcomes the day.

Cacophony is often seen as negative, as being a word for racket, dissonance, din. But for me there is no other word to describe the medley of sounds as dozens of local birds have their morning vocal work-out, defending their territory whilst raising a brood of chicks.

On of these mornings soon, before the chorus this year stops, I’ll get up, get organised and walk towards the sunrise, maybe one just like the one in my header photo, listening to those birds saluting the light.

Fake Flamenco: June 2023 Poetry Challenge

Hammad Rais’ Weekend Sky #104

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Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can.

31 thoughts on “The Call of the Chorus”

  5. Sheer bliss. Thank you Margaret. I went into the garden at dusk last night and there was a blackbird, at the bottom, and a robin, at the top, alternating distress calls. Each paused for the other before they shouted their warning. The robin was only two paces away from me. The black cat decided it was best to move on!

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  6. I love to hear the dawn chorus. Usually it’s wonderful even here in the suburbs but this year it seems to be less varied, dominated by great tits who aren’t exactly melodious! But you’re right, cacophony is a perfect word to describe the birds at that time 🙂

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  8. It’s my first morning by the lake and the birds here are singing, but I am late. The sun is up and the military are engaging in exercises across the lake, the muffled gunfire stifles the bird calls and spooks our young spaniel, who’s hiding in the back bedroom. I’ll have to start earlier and record a lake awakening. Today’s chores include getting the humming bird feeders setup for the summer.

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  10. Reading this on a sun terrace in a rental property in west wales. It overlooks an estuary just three miles from a huge oil refinery. But I can’t see any signs of industry and all I can hear are birds. Just perfect

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  11. Absolutely loved your poem on this one Margaret – had no idea you were a poet! As for the cacophony, I’d have no idea as I’m not an early riser and rarely see a sunrise as beautiful as the one you’ve included. For me it’s the birds’ chattering as they fly en masse into their trees each evening at sundown. Between the egrets and the herons it’s quite an event.

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    1. Now that sounds wonderful! But once – just once – do see if you can do the dawn chorus. Thanks for the compliment. I’m definitely not a poet, but poetry is something I try to have a go at every now and then.

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  13. Lovely poem, and how wonderful to wake to that every morning! I’ve always lived in too urban areas to really get much of a dawn chorus, though the local birds do their best.

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  14. Pingback: June Bird Poetry Challenge 2023 – Fake Flamenco
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  16. Gosh there’s nothing so pure as birdsong. As we travel north I welcome the calls of the birds of each area. Though this morning it is the raucous squawk of cheeky Corellas ( a variety of large parrot).

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