Oh the Cuckoo

Oh, the cuckoo, she’s a pretty bird,
Lord, she warbles as she flies;
She’ll never say cuckoo
Till the fourth day of July.

This is the chorus of a very old song and perhaps tells us something about the bird’s habits. My dad calls it the rain crow because its call was thought to be a sign of impending summer rain. I love these birds, skulkers in the densest of thickets, the darkest of woods. Something prehistoric about this bird draws me to admire it. I saw this one today in the woods across from Lake Betz:

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About birdingatbond

I love birding! And I live near Fred G. Bond Metro Park in Cary, NC.
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