It's interesting what keeps a mind busy at night. I was up late last night, doing my wind down on the computer, talking with Gary, surfing and writing retorts and exclamations after friend posts. After my 10pm class is always a bit busy for me... my head processing and thinking, and the usual array of contemplation and consideration of all the interactions I have had with students. I usually call Monica on the rides back and that usually helps wind me down. Since Gary was up last night, watching a movie... I farted around online then went to bed... teeth clean, face washed, pillows tucked in around me where I like support. There I lay, window open, cool breeze... and it started:

"Tweet-twiddle Tweet-twiddle... twitteroo twitteroo... twiddle-de-too twiddle-de-too...twitteroo twitteroo... Tee Tee Tee Tee Tee...Tweet-twiddle twitteroo roo roo roo..." (You get the picture?)

Now, I LOVE listening to birds. And most birds have a song that is redundant and soothing. Not unlike the frogs in our oasis pond... chirping and croaking continuously. I can deal with that just fine. I love it and it is a summer lullaby that is one of my favorites. BUT, this little bloke was busy singing an entire opera, or love song, like there was no tomorrow. 12:48am and he starts up like the sun was shining off a brilliant day! At first, I thought, how cute... but as I dosed off here and there, the shifts in his song got my mind going.... as if someone was trying to make conversation over a bad cell phone connection. I struggled as my brain tried to make sense of what he was saying. I moaned.

"What's wrong?" asks my Metal Head Adonis...
"You have GOT to be kidding me?" I grumble.
"What?"
"Listen to that racket! Doesn't he know it's a THURSDAY night? That bird outside is singing a love song or something!" I toss about on the bed for emphasis.
My hubby snickers - one of those "aren't you cute" snickers and announces, "That bird must be horny cause that's a birdie-call!"
I laugh, and grumble at the same time, "Well, I need some sleep - it's 1am!"

As usual, Hubby snockers right off to sleep. Nothing phases that man unless it is me snoring. I readjust pillows and try again to ignore the little SOB.

"Twoot-twiddle Twoot-twiddle... treee treee... twiddle-de-too twiddle-de-too...twitteroo twitteroo... Tee Tee Tee Tee Tee...Tweet-twiddle twit teree ree ree ree..."

But then it gets worse, cause now the frogs and toads decide they need to get in on it for my benefit. So I start hearing intermittent croaks and churts between his anthem birdie call. Flustered, I get up and stand at the window, curmudgeonly gazing out at the darkness and growing noise. I decide to trail on down stairs and do some more surfing. My brain isn't going anywhere trying to figure out the conversation. And, in my stubbornness I refuse to close the bedroom windows.

I even posted on True Colors: "I love birds, but got this little guy out here singing love songs for over an hour and a half, and if being up beyond my bedtime didn't give me a tremendous headache I would put words to his music."

At the stroke of 2am, the little guy had turned the cool quiet evening into a complete block party, I thought of my sister and her mediation for animal control. Can you call the cops on a bird disturbing the peace? I mean, really?

Eventually I dragged myself upstairs to give sleep yet another opportunity to convince me to follow. I decided I would just let my mind make conversation with Mr. Bird, and that it did. I know eventually I trailed off into sleep with a clear sense of what Mr. Bird was singing about (I just don't remember it - that's what I get for not sleeping enough!)

I did NOT wake up refreshed this morning. In fact, I slept until 9:30am, crawled out of bed with an internet hangover, and stumbled into the office to decide on the first morning tasks. I noticed that it was pretty quiet outside. I imagined Mr. Busy-body sleeping in his tree, maybe grumbling at the distant noise of lawn mowers and delivery trucks. Groggy eyelids under a protective wing as he carries on sleeping after the all-nighter he pulled.

Seriously, I almost went outside to chant and bark with Gizmo - teach him a lesson. But, what would the neighbors say? Frankly, my howling is hardly a bootie-call.

Labels: birds, humor, nature