I woke to angry birds.

Maybe they weren't angry, but they were loud, persistent. I guess they had a lot to say this morning, at 5 am.

A truck backed up, joined the choir; plastic trash cans pulled across the pavement provided the back beat.

I shuffled into the kitchen, ground my beans and tried to siphon off some of the energy outside my door.

It's a wild shot on a Monday, but that won't stop me from trying.


Monday's are rude like that.
My least favourite thing about summer is the need to have the windows open at night and, by extension, the wee hours of morning. The things you hear, indeed. The other night, a wild cougar crying out. Bit unnerving, that.
stephanie said…
I adore this poetic snippet - you created a little sound & image montage in my head. Yay, thanks!
katydidnot said…
frick. i forgot that today was trash day. frick.
We have this... chipmunk. 5:30am on the nose it arrives. It chirps. Constantly. For hours. Right outside our bedroom window on the garden wall! This morning my husband went outside, turned on the hose, set the nozzle to "power wash", and waited. It slowly came to the edge of the top of the wall and looked down at him, and then he shot it with the hose and sent it flying. No chirping this morning, and I'm hoping the little idiot doesn't come back tomorrow either. It will, though.

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