The Birdies

This is the time of year that I hate. Boy does that sound pessimistic. But I don't like this time of year for one main reason, the birds.

I like the nights getting longer and the changing of the weather from cool temps to high (just not too high, now) and I like being able to pull out the shorts again.

But man, those birds.

You might know what I'm talking about. Because with spring comes the blooming of trees and such, and with all that comes the birds. (Not to mention the allergies but that's a separate rant in itself.) Those little birdies come and sit outside your window and chirp away at all hours of the morning and they're just so darn annoying. Maybe they're out there at other times of the year but to me I just start noticing the noise in spring. The whole situation makes me want to go all Fiona on them but then, that's not very nice.

We actually have one bird who hangs out on our porch quite frequently and he might have even made a nest in the walls of the porch. Not to mention Sqwakers, who famously perturbed my roommates while I was gone one weekend.

I wish I could have a conversation with these birds to ask them nicely if they would be quiet while I'm trying to wrap up my sleeping cycle early in the am. Or at least question them to understand why it's imperative that they practice singing before the sun comes up. Or, in the meantime while I'm having this conversation, ask how and why they always seem to find a nice shoulder to poop on when they do let one loose from the sky. However if I did, I'm sure they would give me the same answer I give for why I love peanut butter sandwiches or why I talk a lot: It's what I do. It's what makes me me. God created me to ride my bike and type blogs and He created the birds to chirp and annoy me.

So the next time I want to get angry with our aviation friends, I'll try to temper that frustration. I always like saying the phrase "just do you," and that's what they do. They provide a natural, earthly melody and in a world that has too much noise, it's almost soothing. Besides, I can't just hear them when I want and ask that they disappear from the earth when I don't want to hear them. That's more two-sided than Harvey Dent's face.

The next time they bug me, maybe I should take a deep breath and be appreciative that I can hear their chatter at all. The world would be a much quieter place without the birds, and, on second thought, I don't know if that's necessarily a good thing.