July 22, 2004

To kill a mockingbird —or not?

It’s mating season and these lovesick males don’t care that it’s 3:30 in the morning

By Bernard J. DeFrancesco
Special to the Times

I jump out of bed to turn off the alarm. To my surprise, it is 3:30 a.m. and two hours before my alarm is set to go off. Suddenly, the beep, beep, beep shifts to caw, caw, caw, caw. Why is there a crow cawing so early? I don’t need that kind of wakeup caw.

In a blink of an eye, the caw switches to coo, coo, coo. Could it be a morning dove? OK, it’s a few hours early, but I can live with that. Thirty minutes later and a myriad of 30 or so tunes cascading over a three-octave range and I’m getting a little testy. What a gift of mimicry does a mockingbird possess.

This bird is not afraid of humans and will often serenade its nonpaying audience by moonlight. The only admission is the minutes lost from sleeping. Our neighborhood mockingbird mistakes itself for a nightingale and does not need the moon to initiate its singing. The initial reaction is to get annoyed with this Rich Little-like impersonator. The question is to kill a mockingbird—or not?

It is a tempting choice. Yet, the more I listen to this avian crooner, the more enjoyable its tunes become. What will the next sequence of tunes be? Will the bird introduce a new tune into its repertoire? Did it just imitate a cat?

Acceptance and enjoyment of this magnificent songbird precipitates a connection with nature. The Indians say when a mockingbird shows up on your totem, it is time to learn to sing out your talents. Therefore, we should do ourselves a favor and be an intent listener. Our rewards will be the entertainment of this feathered performer, as well as, a moment of reflection for personal growth.

To kill a mockingbird—I think not!

Bernard J. DeFrancesco has turned into an Almaden Valley bird lover.