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Few sounds are more pleasant than the chorus of birds on a spring morning. Robins start in before the sun rises; their clear, bubbling songs echo across the darkened rooftops. Soon, song sparrows jump up on bushes to join them, and other voices from deeper hiding places. Raucous calls of jays and crows punctuate the melodies. Woodpeckers, lacking strong vocal talents, pound out rhythms on lampposts and house sidings. Whether in Cairo or Copenhagen, a similar chorus formed of local

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This story is from Kinfolk Issue Twenty-Eight

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