like a mockingbird

"...a mockingbird spent the day in my yard singing.
He never stopped all day, shifting from birdsong to birdsong, never repeating. He had other sounds in his repertoire, some that sounded like owls or tiny foghorns. And it was impossible not to laugh listening to him shift from one song to another. "He's showing off," said my daughter, and I thought he was right to, showing how worldly he was, how far he had come, what he now knew that he wasn't born knowing."

Excerpt from "Still Life With Chickens" by Catherine Goldhammer