Brooklyn Beat is enjoying the natural beauty of his neighborhood, Fiske Terrace.

The unique and brilliant plumage of birds is only surpassed by the remarkable diversity of their song. The homes in Flatbush, especially in Fiske Terrace and Midwood Park, are nestled in their own wooded and verdant enclave. In the early morning now, as I get up early to start the coffee, empty the dishwasher, and basically set everyone in our home in motion for the final weeks of school, the tree canopy of Flatbush is filled with the tweats, twitters and percussive caws of birds birds birds.

Each year, birds migrate and make their way through Brooklyn, on brief stopovers in the evergreens, elms, maples, oaks, birch, spruces, catalpa, cherry, gingko, apple, fig and other varieties that fill the Flatbush forests. It is a concert, combining bird call and response, jazz and scat singing, blues, anthems, and doo wop, a wild mix of bird songs from the mesozoic to the present day. Each year I look forward to, and savor, the few fleeting months of early summer, when I can hang out on the deck in early morning, sipping a home made macchiato, Guinevere the Corgi at my feet who also seems to listen with a huge grin, listening to the wild and crazy birdsong in the Flatbush forest, before I need to get dressed and ready and deal with civilization and its discontents