Ahhh…the poor little feller’.
As a business owner I follow strict weekday schedules. My internal alarm clock tells me to put my feet on the floor at the very same time, each and every day. I make coffee, feed the furry feline bosses, and flip on the lap top. I feed the goats, and milk when in season. The rest of the day is also charted out, with minutes and hours blocked off. I like production. I like to see progress. I like for things to be completed on time. You get the picture. I was raised by an Army sergeant.
The last few days, keeping the tight schedule has been, well, let’s say, challenging.
A certain little bird, with a good set of lungs, has been fairly punctual. Between midnight and 2:30, he sings, warbles, and because it is dark, I can only imagine he is strutting his stuff as he calls out and looks for a mate.
I hope he finds one soon. I am now regularly chanting: To Not Kill A Mockingbird.
This is what I am hearing when I am not feeling so bright and bushy tailed (scroll down to the audio button here) via Northern Mockingbird, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
Today, via Facebook, and a group of nature-loving friends, with nothing more than a description of a bird’s song, we successfully identified the poor little feller’ that is trying to convert me to his nocturnal practices.
Perhaps tonight will be the night.
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