'It's pouring rain, and he's still singing'

Our house: 5 a.m.


Cheep...  cheep ... cheep ... CHEEP.


Cheep... cheep ... cheep ... CHEEP.


For the past several days, a persistent bird has started his (mating?) song well before the sun comes up -- and well before C. or I would like to be awake. Today, it is dumping rain, but he was still out there cheeping. I imagine a little, puffed up bird trying to hide under whatever leafless branch he can find at this time of year...

Well, C. jokingly threatened to shoot it with a BB gun. (I love birds, there's no way I would let him.)

I just said, "It's pouring rain, and he's still singing."


C.'s Facebook status this morning told me that he got it. A quote: "Some birds sing when the sun shines bright. My praise is not for them but the one who sings in the dead of night. I raise my cup to him. Some flowers bloom when the green grass grows. My praise is not for them but the one who blooms in the bitter snow. I raise my cup to him." - Anais Mitchell


Indeed. Here's to all the birds singing in the rain.