I am still plugging away on the project from hell. The wee hours of the morning particularly lend themselves to the quiet necessary to concentrate on this beast.
It turns out I am not the only living being who feels similarly inspired to work.
At midnight or so, every night, a mockingbird starts up in the evergreen tree outside my office window. He is either wooing a mate or just doing what mockingbirds do. Opinions are varied.
It might explain the abandoned egg I found in the geranium basket hanging on our front porch. (Sorry for the huge pictures in my posts these last couple of days, but my finds have been so tiny that my camera is not coping very well.)
And here he is, right on cue (check the time stamp). I could swear that he has a whippoorwill call in his repertoire, though I haven’t heard that nocturnal bird during these late-night marathons.