There was an article in the paper where a spokesperson for the travel industry said that many working Americans don't use all their vacation days, and I said to my beloved, "And you're one of them! Let's schedule some small trips. I want to go back to Indian Cave State Park."

So just took a trip to this park, which is 3000 acres of beautiful woods and fields in SE Nebraska. Birds we saw: a bald eagle, a heron, pheasant, vulture, wild turkey, Baltimore orioles, bluebirds, indigo bunting, gold finches, prothonotary (sp) warblers, cedar waxwing, orchard oriole, flicker, red-winged blackbird red-headed woodpeckers. And we weren't really birding very hard.

Heard but didn't see: wood thrush, veery, chuck-will's-widow.

To the established category of LBJ's (little brown jobs) I wish to add WHS's. Wouldn't Hold Still's.

The only drawback was the group in the camp next to ours. Talk about loud! Fortunately, they didn't play canned music, but everything they communicated, they seemed to communicate at the tops of their voices. We soon knew the names of all the kids. We knew that they had 26 bottles of drinking water along. We knew that one mother (whom we dubbed "The Manager") was a neatness freak. And though we wished they would tone it down, it wasn't worth the effort to break camp. We were gone a lot, anyway.

One morning at 9:30 I decided that everybody was safely up and doing, so I got out my wooden flute, propped up my book of Irish airs,* and practiced a bit. I played for about 20 minutes and decided I was pretty bad. I packed it up, and we got in the car to go birding some more. What do you know, a woman and her son came up to our car door, and she said, "We want to thank you for playing the flute. It was beautiful. We don't get to hear music like that." Later, when I was walking down the camp road, the three boys (ages about 12-14) made my acquaintance and told me again that they liked the flute playing. How many years has it been, I wonder, since a boy that age but not in my family actually spoke to me?

I was surprised and touched. I wonder what would have happened if I had been any good? Might have started a revolution! Well, if you have ever crossed the plains and listened to the radio, you know that many people have the choice of rock, kuntry, or religious programming. That's it; take your pick. If you don't like it, the hell with you.

But all across the country there are people whose hearts are aching for melody.
-----------
Traditional Slow Airs of Ireland, by Tomas O'Canainn. You can get it through Amazon.