there is little i hate more in the morning than the sound of birdsong. all the sound of birds chirping away in the morning does is remind me that i am not in bed, that i am not asleep dreaming dreams that i will forget pretty much the moment i wake up (and straight after the thought “wow that was a freaky dream…” then as if by magic it is gone…), that i am on my way to work and that yet another weekend has gone by when it wasn’t me and some other lucky sod has won the lottery.
i get all of that from some speckle coated gull tit warbling it’s morning cry.
oh stop being such a miserable curmudgeon i hear you cry. embrace nature you shout.
pah it all falls on deaf ears.
do i hate birdsong? yes i do.
can i ignore it? not easily.
can anything be done about it? perhaps if we send in the troops.
why am i sounding like donald rumsfeld? haven’t a clue.
1 comment:
Let me guess, Pat, you don't sing in the shower of a morning either, do you? :-)
Very first morning I woke up in the flat I bought I could hear a cockrel crowing. Fair enough if you live in the countryside but not what you expect in the densely populated Victorian tenements of Edinburgh. Did I imagine it? No, there is is again, I can hear it through the open window, cock a bloody doodle doo on a summer morning. Puzzlement for some time until I remember there is an 'urban farm' just round the corner...
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