I've discovered Gerard Manley Hopkins feels the same way I do about thrushes. He very kindly wrote me some thrush-themed lines of poetry 120 years or so in advance to go along with my book, Thrushbeard.
Here it is, an excerpt from "Spring," by Hopkins:
"Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing..."
Imagination doesn't just mean making things up. It means thinking things through, solving [problems] or hoping to do so, and being just distant enough to be able to laugh at things that are normally painful. [Some people] would call this escapism, but they would be be entirely wrong. I would call fantasy the most serious, and the most useful branch of writing there is.
--Diana Wynne Jones
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