The other day I was sitting in front of my computer doing a little writing. I must’ve been concentrating pretty hard because the strange sounds drifting into the room from the open window did not hit my consciousness for several minutes.
In fact, I found myself humming along to the familiar song of a chickadee when I snapped to attention. Something was very “off.” The adorable little bird hopping around on the peanut feeder was singing almost an octave lower than any chickadee I’ve ever heard, and his “voice” was raspy like Kathleen Turner.
Perhaps my visitor had a rough night on the town, or maybe it was a youngster trying out his voice for the first time. Whatever the reason, it made me giggle to hear such a low, gravelly sound coming from such a tiny creature.