Into The Light Of A Dark Black Night
There's a bird that sings in the middle of the night. I wake around one o'clock and there he is, fluting away. I can only guess at his species, but since he can string quite a few notes together in a lot of different combinations I think he's a blackbird. It's not normal for birds to sing in the middle of the night in February- or is it?
I don't mind that he wakes me up. I like to hear him. Tweet tweet twiddle tweet. It's like he and I have a connection. The symbolism is obvious, but from his point of view I suppose what he's doing is telling other birds to keep away from his manor or hurling abuse at a cat.
I've just remembered there's a Beatles song- a very pretty one- Macca through and through: "Blackbird singing in the dead of night." The website I've just visited says it's a song about civil rights. Yes, well, I suppose it is; but I bet it all started with Paul lying awake at midnight- just as I've been doing- listening to birdsong and thinking, " that's odd ."
I don't mind that he wakes me up. I like to hear him. Tweet tweet twiddle tweet. It's like he and I have a connection. The symbolism is obvious, but from his point of view I suppose what he's doing is telling other birds to keep away from his manor or hurling abuse at a cat.
I've just remembered there's a Beatles song- a very pretty one- Macca through and through: "Blackbird singing in the dead of night." The website I've just visited says it's a song about civil rights. Yes, well, I suppose it is; but I bet it all started with Paul lying awake at midnight- just as I've been doing- listening to birdsong and thinking, " that's odd ."
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Just down the road- sandwiched between two housing estates- is an area that used to the municipal rubbish tip. They spent a lot of money reclaiming it and now it's very wild indeed.
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When Charles was out of town, I would leave the bedroom blinds open all night, gifting myself with a backdrop of countless twinkling city lights.
About three AM or so, a solitary bird would burst forth with torrents of cascading roulades.
I would wake up slightly, then ease back into sleep, lulled by that endlessly inventive song.
I miss that.
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But I wonder why they do it?
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