Day 232 - Birdsong

So, I was running the trail today at lunch. About halfway, I heard the faintest little bird sound. Not really a chirp, or a warble. Just the faintest little whistle.

I'm not an expert, but I'd never heard this bird before. And as faint as it was, it seemed to always be close, as if the bird were following me.

Also odd, the bird seemed to call out at an unusually regular rate, about every two seconds.

To get a better listen, and maybe a bead on the bird's direction, I held my breath for a few strides. As my luck would have it, the bird went quiet.

I figured I'd gone out of range, or the bird had lost interest in me. So I went back to the run.

Just then, there it was, back again.

I listened hard, like you can look hard at something by staring at it, leaning in, opening your eyes a little more, and lowering your eyebrows.

It seemed so close, but so faint, and short. Always right with me. Always the same call. Always staccato short. So regular. Too regular. Always... on... my... exhale.

[sigh...[faint whistle]]

Wasn't a bird. It was my own lungs, airway to be more precise, wheezing. Wheezing to the point of whistling.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 2.5 miles on trails.