|You know, of course, that I didn't take this picture.|
(What would I do without Google Images for most of my illustrations?)
I was happy to find a picture of this bird in mid-song.
Good grief, I am going to throw a boot (never a book!) at that bird! Does he think he is a nightingale? He’s a mockingbird, and one who should be doing his mocking thing in the daylight, not in the dark.
For several nights now I’ve awakened to the sound of a mockingbird perched somewhere in the nearby trees or on the fence. I often wake a time or two at night, usually for a bathroom call. These last few nights that bird has been singing his heart out in the darkness. Loud too.
I remember one of our neighbors, long ago on Long Island. Charlie swore he was going to kill that mockingbird. Me? I never ever heard it. At that time I was young and slept through the night, come what may. Older now, of course, older by over thirty years, irregular sounds wake me right up.
This morning, I found it was as loud as it was because the window has been open for days behind the closed drapes. Who closed those drapes? I did. I never remembered or noticed the open window, and the air conditioning has been on in the house. Ah, well. I hope that tonight the bird has given up and gone to sleep like all good birds. His ‘song’ is definitely not melodious.