To Hear a Mockingbird

At our house, we have a mockingbird. Which, by the way, is the state bird of Tennessee. He likes to sit on the utility pole across the driveway and sing.

And sing.

And sing.

He must know every song of every bird in the book, because he is always out there singing. And by always, I mean always. When we get up in the morning. When we leave. When we get home. I have even heard him at 12:30 AM. As in the middle of the night. Don’t birds sleep at night?

Maybe it is more than one mockingbird. Maybe they have a tag team, just like in wrestling. Mockingbird Chirp needs a break, so he tags in Mockingbird Chatter. But because they wear the same mask, no one can tell them apart.

I’m really not complaining. The mockingbird isn’t really a bother. I can close my eyes at night and go right to sleep and not hear him any more. Or during the day, I can turn on the TV and not hear him over the noise.

It is just strange that he is always out there, happily singing his songs.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe he is mocking me.