The carol birds slip in unannounced. Nobody sees them arrive. They hide behind the leaves at the top of the trees in the bush.
I’ve never seen a carol bird. Maybe few people have. They’re elusive, shunning attention, until they begin to sing. Then they lift their heads high, and the notes spill out, rising higher and higher. And I stop and I listen. I grin in delight. The carol birds’ song is the sound of our spring.
The carol birds are part of my life. They’re close to my heart. Just like the stories I write.
