I was kept awake half the night because of this singing that came in through the open window. It seemed to move from place to place and at some point it was very nearby… The first time I ever heard this song was in the south of France, sitting outside in the chilly dark night sipping my hot coffee. And I remember how surprised I was because it was pitch-black out there and normally in springtime everything would be quiet except for the odd sound of some lost sangliers, digging their noses in fresh soil looking for roots and insects. They would scream at times, a horrible sound that could easily scare you if you’re not familiar with it.

But that time it was different, les sangliers were not around, les cigales stopped vibrating their membranes and were probably hiding for the night and it had been quiet for some time until the song started. I was wondering why that would happen that late at night while most other similar species would be quiet and asleep around that time. It seemed strange to me and I didn’t understand. Nevertheless it was wonderful to listen to and absolutely intriguing. So when I went to bed, I kept listening on and off during the night while I tried to get some sleep as well. The next morning I found out that the song I had been listening to belonged to the Nightingale.

Of course I heard about the Nightingale but I had never actually hear him sing until that night in France and I only then realised why he was named like that. So last night the English version was sitting nearby in one of the gardens communicating with another one that I could hear respond in the distance after a few seconds. And that was the odd thing: these birds were still out there singing while there was a serious 60mph gale going on [force 10]… So serious that I woke up later that night and was forced to close the window. How could they ever sit in a tree in a storm like that and sing their songs all night as well? They didn’t seem bothered at all…

And I was thinking: ‘they probably don’t know any better, they just do what they’re supposed to do which is singing…’ ‘No matter what type of weather it is they won’t be distracted, they stay focused on the one thing that they’re supposed to be doing.’ So I pictured the one nearby, sitting on his branch, holding on to it firmly, while the storm is trying extremely hard to blow him away. And he’s just there, not scared at all but facing the storm while singing his brave song, totally ignoring what is going on around him. And while I pictured that, I said to myself: ‘I think that Nightingale is trying to teach you a valid lesson, perhaps… you should pay attention…’

© E. Dulac, The Nightingale