Early this week, I was sung awake at about 4:45 to the tune of 'whip-poor-WILL! whip-poor-WILL!' The little dude was, I exaggerate not, sitting ON my windowsill. He was cute, and he had a lot to say, so I just smiled and put my head under the pillow for a few more winks.
Then he showed up the next morning, same unGodly time. And THIS time, he managed to awaken the DH as well. Which ain't no small feat, I'll vouch. It being strike one between the DH and the bird, though, DH accepted it as a happy early riser and went back to sleep.
Ah, but the next morning was too much. Whipoorwill had entirely too much to say at entirely too early of an hour. It was closer to 3 AM on Wednesday when the DH skipped strike two, went directly to strike three, and put the shushdown on the wee feathery puffball.
heh.
Not to be discouraged, however, Whipoorwill has maintained his ever-flowing crowing. I can still hear him in the small hours of the day, talking up a storm, but he is decidedly further from the window ... although I think he gets more courageous and a little closer every morning.
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