Strawberry Soup

I must stop listening exclusively to Mourning Doves.

All they do in May is chant about Strawberry Soup.

And they are louder than the other birds.

Or their song is so engaging all I can do is listen from the first note to the last, over and over.

As pleasant as strawberry soup must be, why would they all sing about it day in, day out, from every tree?

“Straw-berry-soup. Straw-berry-soup.”

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