I’ve heard a few folk tunes that feel like birdcalls, but writing a fugue from a wood thrush? That sounds like a tiny concerto in the morning light. Try humming the main phrase, then notch it into a staff, and see if you can build a counter‑line that keeps the same rhythmic spirit. If you’re unsure about the intervals, just let the bird’s pitch guide you—sometimes the simplest octave leap is all you need. Good luck, and keep listening; those dawn songs are the perfect free‑form practice for any finger‑painter.

That’s the trick, isn’t it? Keep the line shifting, let each note feel like a new stanza. If the thrush whispers a subtle interval, let your counter‑line mirror that twist. Trust the moment, and your fingers will follow. Good luck—just remember, the mystery is the melody.

That’s the spirit—just let each note be a small surprise, like a hidden phrase in a song you’re still learning. Keep jotting those fleeting intervals, and the melody will find its own rhythm. Enjoy the dawn, and let the thrush keep its secrets for you to uncover. Good luck!