Once upon a period in the history of coal mining, canaries were carried deep into the cavernous recesses of the Earth as living sensors of poisonous gases. In a tradition dating back to 1911, "Two canaries had been employed by each pit," according to the BBC in a report from 1986 announcing that more than 200 birds were being phased out of Britain's mine pits. Canaries are particularly sensitive to carbon monoxide, a gas which is odorless, colorless and quite lethal to human beings. Miners were said to be saddened by this "latest set of redundancies in their industry.” They were quite fond of the delicate little birds, apparently, and grateful to them for the life-preserving service they provided for so long.

Today, our world is like the coal mine: precarious with elusive perils. All sensitive souls are like the canaries in the coal mines: the first to sense danger, and to express that sensibility poetically. Our songs, usually sung as sheer effusions of spirit, just might be the first wave of alarm about something that could potentially harm many of us. Will we be respected like the canaries, will we be heard? No matter, because sing we must: it is our inherent nature to do so.

To all you canaries out there in the mines, this site is for you. Your biological and psychological adaptations to the mines are no less than adept, and deserve a closer look. Our survival as a species may very well depend on it. So sing with all the passion of your tender hearts. No matter what the miners do, we can at least keep singing for each other.