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Kathy Bradley

Bird’s struggle to find answer

A summer morning at Sandhill sounds like the first day of kindergarten — 15 or 20 high-pitched voices all talking at the same time. The kindergartners, in this case, being the birds — cardinals and sparrows and crows — that share my living space. An experienced birder could surely distinguish among the songs and calls; I am satisfied to sit in the concert hall and listen. This morning I get more than a performance.

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