elementary, my dear watson

| On
Monday, March 29, 2010
there is some kind of night chirping bird in the tree right outside my window. I think he's sending morse code to the moon (which is full and surprisingly visible considering how much it's been raining) or to another bird, or maybe he's just reciting his to do list ("wake up early for MORE WORMS!") or something like that.

Now the bird sounds like he's making fake bird calls! like in some broad teen comedy where the well-meaning but lunkheaded football player is teamed up with the nerds for whatever reason and he's hiding in the shrubbery trying to give a signal. It's supposed to sound like a whippoorwill, but because he is "hilariously" inept and too big for the bushes, he sounds like a startled chicken with a megaphone. Except my bird does sound like a whippoorwill and not at all like a football player or a chicken with a megaphone. Oh, wait! I just looked it up - we don't get whippoorwills here (I just love typing the name), so it's some other night singing bird but still not a lunkheaded jock trying to signal some nerds from the shrubbery. How do I know? NO SHRUBBERY.*

(photo taken tonight in photo booth of flowers picked this evening. they smell so good!)

(*okay, there is some shrubbery, but it's totally not the kind of shrubbery I was imagining and is therefore ineligible.)
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