The happiest creature on the planet lives about 30 meters from where I sleep.

I know this, that this particular entity is impossibly happy, because it sings all night and day. I assume it is a young bird because age brings such cynicism. As we grow older we realize that it isn’t fruitful to sing all the damn time like we haven’t a care in the world. This bird sings all the damn time like it hasn’t a care in the world.

I have nothing against it, honestly. I’m one to celebrate happiness and sing right along when I hear it. Though not entirely immune to the bitterness of age, I’ve trained very hard to keep (or, perhaps, readopt) the carefree spirit of my youth. I applaud this frivolous fowl.

But there are times when enough seems to be enough. Last night around 1:30 in the morning I thought to myself, “isn’t that about enough, you daft duck?”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t enough for this daft duck. Now, mind you, I don’t know what species of bird it is, so when I say “fowl” or “duck” I am simply searching for synonyms for the songstress. Honestly, I don’t know if its male or female, either, but “songstress” sounded right in that sentence.

What I do know is this: this avian has a clarion wail and is happy as hell.

To put this critter’s canticle in context I would convey that it is akin to one of those car alarms that you catch occasionally. I’m talking about the one’s that change their pitch and rhythm every few seconds. They seem to last for hours as you wonder how everyone in the universe can hear this alarm but the poor unfortunate soul that controls it. It’s almost amusing at first, but then the minutes tick by and the sheer annoyance and repetition of the chorus has you seeking shells for your shotgun.

Not that you would do that. And I wouldn’t be any more inclined to shoot a happy bird in the trees than you would be to fire a round into an idle, if vexatious, auto. A fleeting thought, nothing more.

I suppose it deserves a name, this newfound friend of mine. Can you dub a bird “Vexatious”?

I’m certain it won’t be long before the natural predators of the wild and the aching joints of age disperse this baby birdie’s mirth into the natural acerbity of life. But in the meantime, I will enjoy the carefree song of my vexing companion at every hour except the 2 am one. In the mornings I will appreciate the lyrical dawn. In the afternoons I’ll be inclined to sing along. In the evenings he’ll be an amusement for Mrs C and me.

So sing away, you winged wonder.

Sing until you can no more.

Originally posted in June 2017. Reposted because the new neighbor and I laugh and talk about the vexatious bird in the trees that sings all night. Same bird? New youth? Who knows. Sing away, winged wonder. We’ll sleep when we’re dead. ❤️

27 thoughts on “Songbird

  1. 1:30 in the morning? While all other normal birds are asleep? I think you have a mutant on your hands…. better call the Audubon Society and report this abomination before it reproduces.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yup! It’s funny that the neighbors brought it up to me a couple of weeks ago; reminded me of this post and of the first spring/summer we heard the song of Vex!


  2. I was in Florida in February and there was this fucking bird outside my window that made this sound


    I literally got out of bed and hunted down this bird and told it it was being rude.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. That reminds me of the Far Side cartoon of a father telling his son, “The bird sings to stake out its territory, an instinct common in lower animals.” And they’re surrounded by yards with fences. And it reminds me of a parakeet my parents got. They put his cage by a window and he started singing at dawn. They learned to close the blinds after that. After all lack of sleep can make you a real bird brain.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I read such entertaining, natural world reflections and think, why would the animal kingdom be any different than the human one? Insanity affects humans, why not songbirds, squirrels, seals and skunks?
    Of course, singing in the dark is certainly an invitation to disaster. In other lands the night seethes with toothed death, prowling among high branches, silent, patient, hungry.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. “Rise up this morning. Smile with the rising sun. Three little birds pitch by my doorstep, singing sweet songs of melody pure and true, saying: ‘This is my message to you — Don’t worry about a thing, ’cause every little thing’s gonna be alright.'” – Bob Marley

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I love the birds’s songs around here, all except what I call the Cool Whip bird, which sounds like it’s saying “Cooool whip whip whip whip whip” over and over again. Makes me hungry:-)

    Liked by 1 person

  7. It’s nice to reminisce. In my early days, living with the hubs, I learned to mimic car alarms and motorcycle alarms. (The sound of both, abundant in our neighborhood.) I got so good… I would make sure I was ahead of the alarm… like a safety instructor of sorts…
    Good Times!😆

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s funny! 😂 I love how this one sparked a FB debate about whether to shoot or tolerate mentally unstable birds. Everything sparks a debate on FB, it seems. Weee-oohhh! Weeee-ohhhh!Weeee-Oohhh! Woot! Woot! Woot! Mee-awww! Mee-awww! Mee-awww!

      How’d I do?

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Bill! I was having a couple of beers in the street last night with the neighbors and we were laughing about that bird again. It’s annoying, sure, but it is OURS! 🤣


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