When Two Worlds Collide

Last night, after watching "The Last of Mary Todd Lincoln", I stepped out with Rocko for a quick smoke. (Rocko doesn't smoke). June is our reward for getting through the cold winter, and the wet spring. It was a lovely night...the best.

"The Last of Mary Todd Lincoln" was a filmed play. It was very well done, but not my favorite style of entertainment.

This is our fourth summer here. Each summer Paul and I marvel at the whippoorwill who starts his calling shortly after dark on summer nights. I'd only heard him once or twice this summer so far. Last night he was out and partying.

We think his calls are wonderful, but he is under our neighbor's window, not ours. Our neighbor actually saw him a couple years ago, which is a very hard objective to achieve. Our neighbors get a little tired of his night singing.

Each summer I listen to his calls, and I wait, hoping, just hoping, that another little whippoorwill who is ready to get married will finally answer him. Nobody ever answers him. When we first started hearing his song, before we researched him, we didn't know what he looked like. We envisioned a magnificently plumaged and large bird. Not EVEN close.

So last night, I was listening to his lonely calls, feeling sort of bad for my neighbors because he was on a roll last night - sounded sort of desperate for company. Or he was yelling at his teenager...

...and I started wondering about how birds know which sounds to make? I know physically they are built to make certain sounds, but how do they know? Do they just open their beaks and the sound escapes? And I know they learn from parents, by imitating. So how do they know not to warble like a wren? In other words, what exactly went into my little whippoorwill's learning how to sing like he does. Does the length of repititions have any significance? Sometimes he sings "whippoorwill, whippoorwill" (space) "whippoorwill, whippoorwill" (space)... Sometimes it is more random, and last night it was almost staccatto, "whipporwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill...."

I don't know how late the whippoorwill stayed up last night, or how late he kept our neighbors up, but I went to bed. I slept like a baby, it being one of those cooler dryer nights that you can keep the window open and not get damp and chilled, and I was pretty tired. One day maybe our little whippoorwill will get married and stop keeping our neighbors up - wait, thats dumb. Even if he gets married he'll still have to yell at the kids. No sleep for our neighbors. Oh well.

Peace