The other day, I was walking to the gym when I tried to whistle for the first time in what I came to realize had been quite a long time. I couldn’t do it. Weak little tones escaped my lips with air, but the sound was hardly audible and I knew that I used to be able to do more.
When I was young, it seemed like everyone could whistle except for me. My dad, my mom and my brother all could do it, and I felt left out. So I secretly practiced, but I just couldn’t get the knack of whistling like they did.
Then I realized that the hawnk-shoo sound of faking a snore ended in a whistle. I could do that!
But it wasn’t the same. My whistle was more bird-like and I couldn’t control the tone as well as the rest of my family. So I kept working on it, and, eventually, I did it.
Along with playing the flute from 4th to 12th grade, I also whistled a lot. But in the last few years, I haven’t been in the habit of making music, at least, not the way I used to.
So, when I’m not being the tiniest bit overwhelmed with homework, I’m going to be whistling more. I want to keep in practice, even if I can still get reactions from birds with my shrill tweeting.