There is something magical about the sound of wood thrushes singing in summer. I think it’s the combination of breathing room between phrases, as though the wood thrush is putting energy out into the world and then listening carefully before crafting a response. Their energy matches the slow pace of a summer stroll through the woods, full of breath and magic yet heavy with dew. The wood thrush delivers the trills of their song seemingly with a shower of glitter…but glitter that falls through heavily canopied woods and needs no clean up - the perfect accompaniment to a fairy gathering.