On a recent visit to a place situated on the banks of the Shannon in Co Limerick, I set off in the morning to buy a newspaper.  A path along the river leads onto a road that takes one down to the village.  There is a ruined castle beside the road and nearby, on the very top of a tree, sat a bird singing.  It was a song thrush, singing its distinctive, melodious, exuberant song - a variety of musical notes, each note repeated twice, three, or four times.  I listened for a few moments then walked on.  When I returned it was still singing and its voice followed me down the path by the river.  It was there again the next morning.  For the three days I stayed there, as I walked to and fro to buy my newspaper, I was serenaded each morning by the thrush’s mellifluous song.