PYRACANTHA, FIRETHORN, BIRD-BUSH.

All the names work for me.
As I walk to Mum's in the morning and approach the bushes, I can hear they are alive with the chirrup of birdsong.
As I pass in front of the shrubs, they fall silent.
As if Big Brd has put a finger to his lips.
I am well clear of the bush and must start looking smaller to the birds.
And gradually, the chirrup volume returns to normal.