Mozart's Starling by Petra Michelle
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EXT. SUMMER. 1784 AUSTRIA - DAY
The native BIRD population of Austria are in attendance for the annual Bird Song Competition.
The contest's EMCEE, a Sparrow, announces and introduces the three finalists ready to perform.
SPARROW First is Bluebird to sing Little Birdie.
BLUEBIRD Little birdie, little birdie, come sing to me a song. A short time to stay here, a long time to go. Little birdie, little birdie, what makes you fly so high. It's because my own true lover is waiting in the sky.
Exuberant whistling follows.
SPARROW Beautiful. Thank you, Bluebird. Next is Oriole to sing The Little Bird.
ORIOLE The little bird hops through the bright green grass and the bright green grass grows high. The little bird hops through the bright green grass and the little bird sings all night. All night. All night. The little bird sings all night.
Another round of exuberant whistling follows.
SPARROW Beautiful. Thank you, Oriole. Next is Thrush to sing Three Little Birds.
THRUSH Rise up this mornin', smile with the risin' sun, three little birds pitch by my doorstep singin' sweet songs of melodies pure and true, sayin' this is our message to you-ou-ou.
A third round of exuberant whistling follows.
SPARROW Beautiful. Thank you, Thrush. Now, it's time for your votes fellow Aves. I will announce the winner by how vigorous the trees' leaves rustle to your whistles.
In that moment, a jaunty and merry melody is heard in the distance. Each turns to its source, a STARLING, singing along with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart who is playing his Piano Concerto #17, written and dedicated to his muse and pet Starling.
Entranced, they fly to and surround Mozart's residence to get a better listen. When he and the Starling stop, the birds' whistles cause the leaves to rustle most vigorously.
SPARROW And the winner is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his Starling.
Mozart appears with the Starling on his finger.
MOZART Vielen dank unseren Vogelfreunden.
He turns to his pet.
MOZART Was möchtest du singen, mein Schatzi?
STARLING Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words. And never stops at all. And sweetest in the gale is heard. And sore must be the storm that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land and on the strangest sea, yet, never in extremity it asked a crumb of me.
FADE TO BLACK
If interested in the Audubon Society's For The Birds: The Bird Song Project (https://www.audubon.org/birdsong-project), visit Spotify at https://www.audubon.org/birdsong-project
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