True Stories

Gathering material . . .

A couple of weeks ago, reading in the living room, I heard a crow cawing loudly and angrily.  I turned to look out the window and found a mockingbird sailing to the lawn, not a crow anywhere in sight.

Last week, I parked under one of the bright parking lot lights when I got to campus.  As I got out of the car, retrieving my bags and books, I heard a chorus of birds welcoming the coming dawn.  The longer I listened, however, I began to realize no two birds were calling at once.  Sure enough, there on top of the lamppost sat a mockingbird, singing his heart out, offering me an exclusive spring-time concert.  I wonder if he was the same one on the roof that day we stared each other eye to eye . . .

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