A Crisp Whistle

I waddled farther along the brick paving of the path until I spotted a green metal park bench with fallen treasures underneath! Resting right near the curved iron foot was an empty, golden-brown acorn cap with a clean, hollow cup. I nudged it out into the sunlight with my wing tip, admiring its tiny smooth rim. Remembering the umbrella handle from before, I stood on tiptoe, tilted my bill right across the hollow edge, and blew a brisk puff of air. Wheeee—a sharp, cheerful little whistle echoed straight through the autumn park! I puffed out my chest, tapping my webbed feet with pure glee at my grand park music!