You Can Listen Here Their song comes from away, from above, always in forest, from somewhere deep in the canopy. Theirs is my best-loved sound in nature, more than waves, more than other songs, more than water sliding past rocks, more than wind and thunder. The wood thrush is a forest bird, migratory, secretive. The Book calls its song, “loud, sweet, liquid, bell-like, calm, unhurried, peaceful.” They have acquired other names: “Bellbird, song thrush, swamp angel.” […]
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