I heard it again today, the cheeseburger bird. Anyone who lives in the Sierra Nevadas knows what I’m talking about, and perhaps this bird is in your neighborhood, too. I apologize because now that I’ve pointed it out, you may never hear this bird the same way again. I have tried to attribute another term to the cheeseburger bird’s song, but no matter how many times I try to sing “veg-gie-bur-ger”, it just doesn’t have the same ring. So, on this side of the mountain, the sound of summer is most distinctly, “cheese-bur-ger.” That means it’s time to dust off my helmet, get off my padded saddle and struggle to keep up with Mr. Daddy Long Legs up those never-ending hills.
I used a blue crayon for this sketch of a photo my hubby, John, took years ago.