The Morning Bird Chorus in Pasadena 



By GARRETT NEWKIRK 



THE full chorus begins here, as it does everyvv'here else, with the dawn — 

 that is, when there is just enough light in the sky to show that day 

 will come in a few minutes, and yet quite dark all around and beneath. 

 Some bird, awake and more watchful than the others, or advantaged by his 

 position on the sunward side of a tree, gives forth the first note. 



If you are awake and listening, you may hear it. At the time of this writing, 

 May 15, it will be by the clock, "western time," about 4.15. Most people 

 never hear the bird chorus because they are asleep at that time. If they were 

 awake, they would hardly note the first bird- voice; they would not be listen- 

 ing for it. 



In this world we usually see what we are looking for, and hear what we 

 listen for. We have in mind, as a rule, whatever we seek and find. Even if we 

 are startled, surprised by something, the mind has in some way been prepared 

 by training for its recognition. 



It seems as if the first bird wakens a number of others; they add their 

 voices instantly to his, and in a few moments all the birds are awake. Every 

 one adds his note of joy. The effect is more than a song or chorus, it is a cheer. 

 It might remind one of a political mass-meeting, when some leader stands 

 upon the platform, waves his cane, and calls out "Hip, hip, hipl" and all join 

 in, each at the top of his voice, "Hurrahl" and again, "three times three," 

 "Hurrahl" 



So the birds are cheering the coming of the day, not with a hoarse and 

 strident "hurrah," but each with his joyful song. 



The full chorus will continue, however, but a few minutes. As the light 

 increases, sentiment gives way, as it does in human life, to practical necessity. 

 One by one, the songsters are impelled by their all-night fast to seek their 

 breakfast where it may be found, and they know. Some know that breakfast 

 is not ready yet for them, and keep on singing. Some sing at intervals between 

 the courses of their meal; but the real "chorus" is soon over; just as the enthus- 

 iastic democrats or republicans may continue cheering on their way home 

 or at their front gates, so do the birds. 



This bird chorus might be likened to a pyramid of music with the base at 

 dawn and the apex at six o'clock, when they are all too busy to think of sing- 

 ing very much. 



When the chorus is in full, only the trained ear could distinguish each of 

 the many voices engaged, or a majority of them. Some of course are loud and 

 evident; others must be listened for particularly. I am sure that I cannot 

 segregate the half of them, for every voice, from the least to the greatest, 



joins in. 



Each one as if a dozen songs were chorused in his own, 

 And all the world were listening to him, and him alone. 



(254) 



