When I think of you, I dance like a flamingo. There’s got to be that one bird who wakes up all the other birds in the morning, before they want to. Every other bird you hear is yelling at the first one to go back to bed. Like at a movie theatre when one person is talking so then half the other people in the theatre start shushing that person. Every morning I’m woken up to a beautiful, melodic, movie theatre shushing. I pull my curtains apart and ready myself to take on the day, one second at a time. As I gaze through the window, a murder of crows, ten thousand strong, flies high over my head on their way out for the day. The unknowing neighbours expect an upcoming apocalypse, or at least a baby plague. But it’s just crows, and they are calling Jack Handey’s name.
January 15 – Charo gets an avian alarm