Morning Call

Hopefully everyone in the Peace Country was high and dry last night.  What a downpour. How much rain did you get?

If your neighbourhood is blessed with a robin, you must be… a little short of sleep these days.  A robin must be up with the sun, and the sun, as we all know up north, is a very early riser these June nights.  Why must the robin be up at the crack of dawn?  He has something that must be said!  And said over and over and over…  Maybe it’s a forecast!

The robin is a little short on conversational skill.  Every remark is prefaced by a quick “but anyway”, as if the little guy is butting in on what he considers a boring story – to tell his own, far superior news.  But he also calls heartily, “hear hear!”  Or is it “Here, here, put it here!  Quick! Quick!”

What do you make of the little fellow’s boisterous 5 a.m. staccato?  Whatever it is, enjoy the town criers at the top of the trees.  Their service here is all too short!

What do you think about in the wee hours?  Town Spirit would love to know, if it has something to do with the Peace Country!  Please email or leave a comment on any post.  As many times over as you like 😉

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2 Responses to Morning Call

  1. My mother always told us the birds were talking to us. She had us convinced and to this day I make up words for the birds. The robin’s cousin, Swainson’s thrush, says, “You’re pretty, you’re pretty, oh really.” I love the sound of it so much that I used it in my book, “Julia’s Violinist.” A bit of truth in a work of fiction.

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