Singing the Blues

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It’s below freezing. A light wind makes it feel colder. But for the first time in a week, the sun shines down unimpeded on the rain forest. While watching golden eye ducks splash after fish in Gastineau Channel I hear a strange cry. It is faint and very close. It is not a mimicking or sarcastic sound so I rule out ravens. It is far from a mallard’s maniacal cackle, the gull’s tattletale scream, or the eagle’s scolding screech.

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I wonder, for a moment, whether a nearby great blue heron is singing the plaintiff song.  Then I remember that herons squawk like barnyard chickens.

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Looking down, I discover the source of the noise at my feet. Aki, squinting under the unfamiliar sun, is singing to herself.

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It’s a blues song. The little dog dislikes walking along Gastineau Channel. I think she only agrees to join me out on the exposed gravel because she knows that we will soon be walking along the edge of a grass-covered dune where many people walk their dogs.

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