A Clearer Note

A low, fluttering buzz caught my ear from the top of the weathered picnic table near the shoreline path. Hoisting myself up onto the sun-warmed pine bench, I found an empty amber glass cider bottle resting on its side. A curled willow twig was jammed tight across the lip, vibrating stubbornly every time the lake breeze pushed past. With a measured sigh, I braced my feet against the rough grain and gently teased the dry bark loose with both thumbs. Freed from the rattle, the next gust produced a deep, mellow hoot that drifted cleanly out across the reeds. Well... much better tone on that note.