Meadowlark

I heard my first Meadowlark this week. The call took me through seven decades of remembering their most distinctive eight note song. My parents built a house in 1955 on the very edge of the high desert prairie on the east edge of Pueblo. My back yard went all the way to Kansas. It remained that way for seven years. Then, new houses began to erase this world that was filled with: lizards, rabbits, snakes, and tarantulas, to name a few. On any summer morning our backyard fence would become a perch for those yellow breasted opera singers.

I have lived three other places where my heart was graced with what might be the most beautiful song in the Aves (bird) world. Yes, this is subjective, but for me they have no peers. The three years I lived in Pueblo West and the eleven years in the San Luis Valley, also enhanced my love of Meadowlarks.

This Friday my HOA outdoor pool opens. Most every morning at 6:20am I am the first lap swimmer there. Again, the Meadowlarks show up and I get my own personal serenade. There are certainly other birds but as best I can tell, they chirp while my Meadowlarks sing.

Sometime around 1960 I got to see the Harlem Globetrotters come to Pueblo. The star of that team was none other than “Meadowlark Lemon”. He was hilarious, a clown with a heart that warmed even the opposing team. When he was born his parents named him Meadow George Lemon. He adopted the name because he loved “that bird’s sweet song”.

He brought joy to so many, as do the songs these birds never quit singing.

Onward and Upward,

Mark