A LOVE SOUNDING

In the lateness of evening’s charm, before a blanket of clouds chase away the dim light, a lone partridge rustles his feathers then scoops wind to lift him to a fallen trunk.

Once, this mighty birch stood tall, a towering monument reflecting morning sun from its white glaze. It’s covering of loose parchment flapped eagerly announcing a unique presence in the deep forest.

A ruffled grouse now besets this majestic form. Selection for a precise location is important, for this special ritual. Now let the drumming begin.

Taking a firm grip with clenched toes, this partridge often referred to, as “King of the North” begins his journey of love; to call a mate. His wings beat vigorously, a song of need, the staccato raising as an echo from one end of this leafy valley to the next.

Not far away, a female tilts her head, squints briefly then tucking wings tightly to her body, explodes towards the sound of her amour.

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© 2009 Richard L. Provencher