I’m sitting at the kitchen counter, listening to the breeze blow across the top of our fireplace.

It’s a lovely morning. At first cold, reminding that winter-brrr demands getting out of bed and pulling on the hooded long sweater first thing, but later, sunshiny, promising Texas warmth is coming.

A walk will be in order. (Husband promised one.)

But surrounding it all, is the sound of Mockingbird song.

For hours.

Mockingbird song.

He first began going through his vocabulary of songs as the morning dark let the sun break through. And here at 10:36 a.m., he’s still singing away.

I love Mockingbirds.

Well, the kind that sing during the day and not during sleeping hours. Those other ones are enough to make me roll my eyes.

Texas’ State Bird, Mockingbirds are amazing creatures. All seasons of their lives, they assimilate the sounds they hear around them and work on mimicking them perfectly.

I once counted a Mockingbird’s different songs. I counted 36 over fifteen minutes before he flew away. 36 individual songs?! In fifteen minutes? Unsure I could accomplish that before 8:00 in the morning.

Individual sounds I’ve heard from Mockingbirds include such things as other birds’ songs, car alarms and beeps, recognizable smart phone ring tones, cat sounds, dog sounds, and, from one savvy bird, a door creaking sound.

I mean, it’s all fair game to a Mockingbird! He’s trying to impress a mate! He better be the best of the best.

I make it my yearly practice to whistle a particular set of notes whenever I hear a Mockingbird close by. (The way they go on with their sounds pokes at my HSP ears like a beacon. Their antics pull me out of my thoughts so fast.)

To date, I’ve taught three Mockingbirds my song.

Whenever I hear the song I’ve taught them being incorporated into their song rotation, it’s like beautiful peace and wonder in my soul.

Like I’m seen and understood.

Even by my neighborhood Mockingbirds.

/le sigh/ Spring is coming soon, Texas. 🌸