Weather Song

It is as sure a weather predictor as the evening news or the weather channel.

The day had broken sunny and warm, greeted by the sporadic chirps and whistles of sparrows, robins, and mocking birds. The medley spoke of blue skies and white puffy clouds.

By mid afternoon the bird song had quieted, my feathered friends sheltering from the high sun and resting in preparation for evening feeding.

But by four o-clock I knew the evening meal would be thwarted. Bird calls now came in sharp rapid-fire. Warnings shouted from tree to tree.

Louder and louder the birds sang out, competing with the steady wind that now turned tree leaves so that the under sides showed. The wind, seemingly encouraged by the shouting birds blew stronger yet. The birds responded with near panicked squawks. The noise became such that I was tempted to cover my ears.

And then - complete aviary silence as the first drops of rain splattered heavily on the patio.