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No other bird speaks to us quite so directly, its serenade conjuring memories of old family talesI wake early on these bright summer mornings. And now that the birds in my garden have mostly fallen silent, only one is still serenading me at this hour: the aptly named song thrush.

Guardian recreates audio landscape of past filled by loud morning symphony before 73m wild birds were lostImagine a deafening abundance of birdsong so loud it wakes your children at dawn; the chirrup of house sparrows, the chattering of starlings, the melody of the wren, and the