One of the little things in life that make me happy, even or especially when I have a cold, is listening to the evening song of the blackbirds. While they may not be the most attractive birds, they're among the most prevalent here in the city (besides sparrows and crows).
It's late afternoon right now, almost dusk, and as I was looking out from our balcony, having just watered our plants, I noticed "our" blackbird perched on her usual tree branch, singing her little heart out. She (might be a "he" for all I know) seemed to be having a singing conversation with another blackbird in the vicinity, whose song one could just barely hear. You know how they do it, singing a little bit of melody and trills, then waiting to let the other have their say. So for about 10 minutes or so I just stood there listening, and telling myself to look up what that blackbird singing signifies. Was she/he taking stock of the day just past, happy to have survived the daily struggle yet one more time? Was he/she perhaps telling her unseen partner about some strange human who had just stepped out and was impolitely, brazenly listening in on them?
Also, I couldn't help but think of the new building project scheduled to go up on our left, which will almost certainly mean the end of that particular tree. The blackbird will find another perch, hopefully, because I'd really miss her singing!
My favourite call would have to be Forest Weavers and Wood Hoopoes.