Today is International Dawn Chorus Day. As if to emphasise the matter, all the feathered hooligans are in fine fettle, whether it's the wren and the blackcap blasting out their song from amongst the brambles; or the sparrows and goldfinches chirruping from the treetops; or Frankie Howerd the cat muttering to itself from next door's garage roof.
The cat I don't have made damned sure I was awake for it by jumping on my head at four in the morning.
Wouldn't life be desolate without birdsong?
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely. Just been making toast at Morrissey Mansions to the sound if a chaffinch in the car park next door
DeleteHaving Frankie Howerd sitting on one's face at 4 in the morning is an image I am now trying (so far in vain) to banish from my mind.
ReplyDeleteI am> sorry. Frankie Howerd is The Cat I Do Not Have's arch-nemesis. They can both get very arch.
DeleteNo! Stop it! Don't titter...
ReplyDeleteThere's also the ascending "Oo-oooh!"
DeleteI swear I once heard it mutter: "The prologue…"