When Chirping woke up, he loved to greet the sun by giving his feathers a little shake and singing his Greet: The Sun Song.


The sun is rising in the sky.
It's such a lovely day to fly!
Now I'll take wing so I can see
What this fine day will bring to me.
On days when it rained, his chirps were faster, keeping up with the tempo of a thousand whimsical raindrops striking the ground with a melody all their own. He called that one "Raindrops are Lovely".


Raindrops are lovely and it's such fun
To fly between them until the bright sun
Comes back to dry my flashing feathers out.
For tasty berries I will seek and scout.

Even when there was snow on the ground, he would chirp a few joyful remarks about how much easier it was to find the delicious orange berries which stuck out so nicely against the white backdrop. (Though even his cheery disposition couldn't come up with a happy song about that miserable white stuff!)

There was nothing that could spoil the constant good mood of that little bird and no creature would ever turn beak or claw against him.

He visited every bird feeder in the neighborhood, taking just a few seeds from each so he wouldn't get full too soon. He loved to bring a smile to the faces of all the little old ladies that lived on the lane. Children often left bits of dried fruit and seeds they'd picked out of their trail mix where Chirping could easily find them. Even the cats appreciated his tips about convenient sunning spots enough that they'd declared a truce with the helpful bird. He sang Making the Rounds the whole time he was out flying.


I'm making the rounds to see all my friends.
From sunrise until all the daylight ends.
Ms. Cumweedy has nice sunflower seeds
Tasty bugs jump up from the garden weeds.
Bold Tom and Catrina sun themselves.
Pies cool on the edge of the window shelves.
My neighborhood is the place all should see.
The perfect place for a bird just like me!

It seemed like Chirping had a song for everything he was doing. He had songs for berries and nuts and grubs. He had coasting in the air songs, swooping into the tree songs and a splashing in the birdbath song. He never grew tired of singing and would sometimes even stay out after the sun went down to share his gift of song with those humans who (for some odd reason) chose to work all night and sleep in the day. He didn't want anyone in his neighborhood to miss his precious "concerts".

(These humans were the least likely to appreciate his talents. Fortunately, it's really hard to hit a tiny bird with a shoe when one is too tired to see a straight line.)

Most precious to him was the Nesting Song, though he only got to sing it once a year when his wife presented him with her latest brood of eggs.


Little hatchlings soon to come
Love is something I can't sum
In a few soft-spoken lines
You nest in this heart of mine.
You'll outgrow the nest too fast.
The best things in life don't last.
Joy fills me heart when I see
Young birds flying far and free.

His mate Burrow did think him a little odd but she could never forget the elaborate nest he'd built out of old scraps of sheet music or how willingly he'd hovered near the nest to bring her treats and to sing silly songs to their first brood of eggs. She chose to take the long flight every year but she never sought a new nest-mate, always coming back to Chirping with news of those crazy birds to the south and all the interesting new fruits she'd tried.

Chirping didn't need a song to declare his love for Burrow. The elaborate nests he built of a thousand human oddities he'd gathered while she was away was proof enough. Besides, birds mate for life.