The other morning I was out walking and heard a pretty fluting call high up in the trees. Funny how I forget things, but it wasn't till I realized the bird was in among the oak blossoms that I knew it was an oriole, didn't even need to see it. They have the most beautiful call (or is it a song?). I know I say that about all the birds! But as I hear each one as it arrives on its migration, it seems the most beautiful. I do give thanks for the gift of hearing!