Left, right, left
Crunch, crunch, crunch
Cheer-a-lee, cheer-a-lee
Chirp-chirp-chirp
HONK, HONK, HONK. HONK
Cheer-a-lee, cheer-a-lee
Tseer, tseer, tseer
Kik-kik-kik-kik-kik-kik-kik
H-O-N-K
Kik-kik-kik-kik-kik-kik-kik
Tee—seep, tee—seep, tee————seep
Chirp-chirp-chirp
Crunch, crunch, crunch
Left, right, left
On this glorious Spring afternoon, I went for a walk on the Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail near Waterloo, New York.
The trails are no longer quiet in Upstate New York. The birds have returned and were very chatty today.
As I walked along noticing the crunchy rhythm of my steps, it felt like I was the consistent drum beat to a composition being created by the birds.
The high quick tweets of small birds floated over the low loud incessant honks of the Canadian geese. The tap, tap, tapping of a drilling woodpecker syncopated the longer drawn out songs of others.
My walk along this trail was filled by nature’s music. As I neared the parking lot, all that could be heard was crunch, crunch, crunch.
