Dawn Chorus of Robins & Finches

The spring dawn chorus, robins for sure but some finches too, I think, began in complete darkness at 4:13 am EST. I began to be able to distinguish clouds in a lightening sky at 4:26. It is now 4:30 & the chorus continues, though only robins now & even they are beginning to get on with the day. I think I can detect some males defending territory.

Author: jd

Joseph Duemer is Professor of Literature Emeritus at Clarkson University in northern New York state. His most recent book of poems is Magical Thinking from Ohio State University Press. Since the mid-1990s he has spent a good deal of time in Vietnam, mostly Hanoi. He lives with his wife Carole & five terriers (four Jack Russells & one Patterdale) on the stony bank of the Raquette River in South Colton.

6 thoughts on “Dawn Chorus of Robins & Finches”

  1. i WAKE UP to maybe robins around 5 am and go back to sleep, but it isn’t a chorus really because some other mouthy birds poke in, especially the rat-tat rat-tat rat-tat and on an on when they get in (not rat-a-tat-tat: just rat-tat rat-tat) and they were the toe-he’s untunelike tune that used to kill me when we lived for 35+ years in the Hayes Valley part of the Western Edition behind the city hall 3 little blocks west. I don’t know much about music except that when somebody is piano-ing out of the book with no expression and it is supposed to be Theolonius Monk it G R A T E S: so
    If you only have rosy robin song, it is better than a mixmerg-segway with toe-hes. Cheers, Ed

  2. Ed, you want to know from rat-tat rat-tat rat-tat? We’ve got a couple of resident Redheaded Woodpeckers, a metal shed room, AND a metal chimney for the woodstove. Woodpeckers, of course, use their tapping sounds to maintain their territories. I’d heard them go at the shed roof previously, but I now sleep a few feet from the aforementioned woodstove, so when a couple of weeks ago a woodpecker started in on the chimney at around four in the morning (still dark), sick or not, the sound must have levitated me a foot above my bed.

    [Editorial Note: I was trying to imitate the Mycue Sentence in this comment, but I still have not got the knack.]

    1. I love the way you wrote yours. You rule the ratchets. Believe me Joe you are toe-to-toe and over the tip with your brainy top. Now I’ll stop.

  3. Edward Mycue : Word Kittens Are Echoing

    By now so many movements and -isms
    Have blown through my word kitchen
    That the kitten in my mind’s corner,
    In the basket under the old gas stove,

    Is bouncing from surreal- to symbolism
    Now the post avant garde is a canker
    Maybe I mean a cantankerous jungle-
    Jingler with yens for villanelles and rime

    Or maybe rondos with deep koans inside.
    Once I had a dream that I’d memorized
    A lot of sacred books from the Koran,
    Bible, old & new, the Book of the Dead,

    Kalevala, I Ching (if it is a sacred book).
    It all came to seem like hitting speed-bumps
    That smelled of another pheromone breakdown.
    Life is a riddle leaving paw-prints on parchment

    (C) Edward Mycue This was publd handful of years back in LONDON GRIP mag online.

    Edward Mycue lives in San Francisco and is the author of many books – most recently: Mindwalking, New and Selected Poems (2008) and Song of San Francisco (2012) published in the U.K. by Spectacular Diseases Press

    Back to poet

  4. Ed sings the shabby politics of our poetry,
    holding them up for our delectation. Here,
    for example, the Jingler with yens for villanelles
    and rime, which puts me in mind of Wm Stafford’s
    advice to take a set form but treat it casually.
    Ed goes on, catching one of my poor habits
    of mind: “. . . rondos with deep koan inside”
    [The plural of koan is koan —Editors]. Anyhow,
    I have published a triolet that quotes Wittgenstein.


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