Jenny lay back and let the gentle spring sun warm her face. It was the first time in weeks the weather had let her do this. Between the rain and the bitter grip winter tried to keep on her home, Jenny had been miserable in the first days of March. But spring had finally won, and today was sunny and bright; the ground was still slightly soft from the rains, but that made it all the more comfortable to lay on.
    For a moment, Jenny closed her eyes and felt the earth beneath her. It was cool and damp, but not unpleasant. She smelled the earthy scent of drying mud and smiled dreamily at the sound of a spring breeze pushing its way through the slumbering grass. 
     Jenny opened her eyes to look at the lazy clouds rolling by, picking out shapes and making her own on occasion. This one was a bunny, that one was a horse. Over there to the east was a cloud that looked like a bird. Jenny's smile grew as she thought of birds. They were her favorite animal, and it always made her sad to see them fly away every fall. When February had ended, she had waited for days with so much anticipation her mother had begged her to go out and be with her friends, claiming she could almost taste Jenny's apprehension.
    Now Jenny could hear plenty of birds competing for her ears' attention. She closed her eyes again, trying to pick out which bird belonged to what song. Cardinal, Wren, Chickadee, Sparrow, she nodded off every one in her head. But there was one she couldn't quite get. She scrunched her eyes up and listened harder. The song was beautiful and almost resembled the tune she'd heard her mother whistling earlier. 
    "Aha!" She said with triumph. "You're a Nightingale." With the discovery of the bird's identity, Jenny relaxed and began to listen to all the birds' voices, harmonizing to create one glorious song. She wondered if they did it on purpose, if they all got along for a little while, just to make something beautiful. 
    "Of course we do. But we don't do this for just anybody." A soft voice said.
    Jenny sat straight up with her eyes wide open, "Who said that?"
    "Well I did you big goof. I've been waiting for this moment for quite some time now." Jenny whipped her head from side to side, trying to identify who was speaking to her. Then, she found the source of the voice; it was the nightingale. He sat boldly in front of her, his golden feathers aglow from sunlight. When Jenny finally caught sight of him, he was preening his breast feathers.
    "What do you mean, you've been waiting?" She asked him. 
    "I've been waiting to share our secrets with you, Jenny. You're a lot like us...except for being an icky human that is." 
    "Icky?" Jenny asked indignantly.
    "Well, yeah. You're kinda naked and--"
    "Excuse you, I happen to have my favorite dress on today."
    "But you don't have any feathers. And your beak is really weird. Anyways--this isn't the point! It's not your outside that's the same, it's your soul. You belong to the sky, and the wind. The same as us. I am here as a translator, not many birds speak your language. Gets all jumbled up in the beak--too many harsh syllables. We recognized your soul and we want to give you a gift."
     "What kind of gift?" Jenny asked in wonder
    "Your voice is already exceptional by human standards, and it's not bad by ours, but we want to make it even better." The bird answered in enthusiasm.
    "What if I like my voice the way it is?"
    "Ah Jenny, I knew I liked you. To love your voice the way it is just proves my point. If you don't like your voice, which is the most central part of a bird, what can you like about yourself? If you do not wish to alter your voice, we will take you flying. Any time you ask." The nightingale said with approval. His eyes shone as if they could make up for the fact that his beak could not smile.
    Jenny grinned. She'd always wanted to fly like a bird.
    Clang! Clang! Clang! The bell on Jenny's distant porch rang. "Jenny! Come on home it's time for supper!" 
Jenny's smile faded.     "That was my mother. I can't go now."
    "Don't worry little one. You can go tomorrow." The dusty yellow bird assured her, his voice a song, even when he spoke English.
    "Oh!" Jenny said. "You know my name but I don't know yours. How rude of me to not even think to ask!"
    The little bird made a sound that Jenny was pretty sure was a laugh, "My name is K'Ami."
    "Kami?" Jenny asked, trying to pronounce it right.
    "K'Ami. It means 'wind'." The nightingale said, puffing his chest out proudly.
    "Jenny! If you don't get in here soon, I'm feedin' your supper to the hounds!" Jenny cringed at her mother's threat. 
    "I have to go." Jenny said apologetically.
    "Then I shall see you in the morning." K'Ami said.
    Jenny smiled and said goodbye before racing up to her house. Her feet carrying her as fast as they could toward tomorrow.