What the Heck Are They Saying

Most mornings when I’m out in the yard, the birds start talking before anything else wakes up. It’s just noise at first, little bursts of sound coming from every direction. Half the time it feels like a whole lot of chirping just to chirp.

And the more I hear it, the more I catch myself wondering what the heck they’re saying.

I don’t know bird language. I don’t think anybody understands all of it in a way that feels certain. People have guesses, sure, but standing in the yard listening to all that chatter, it’s hard to believe anybody has it completely figured out.

Sometimes I imagine they’re saying normal things. Maybe one’s asking, “Hey Sally, how was your day.” Maybe another’s saying, “You see that guy again, the one with the shovel.” Maybe they’re just checking in like neighbors who don’t have much to say but talk anyway.

Or maybe they’re planning a day of target practice from the branches above.

Who knows. It could be anything.

What I can tell is that some sounds feel sharper than others. Some feel relaxed. Some feel like a warning, even if I couldn’t explain why. You hear enough of it and you start picking up on the difference between everything’s fine and something’s off, even if you don’t know the words behind it.

Most of the time it’s just noise. Not annoying. Just constant, like the yard clearing its throat.

After hearing it long enough, you start catching little shifts. When something moves through the yard. When one of the houses is being guarded a little harder than usual. Even when a storm is getting close. I still couldn’t tell you exactly what any of it means, but you can feel when the yard changes.

Maybe that’s enough.

I still have no idea what they’re saying.

But after listening long enough, I’m pretty sure they’re saying something.