Saturday morning my alarm rang, I turned it off. I've been somewhat sleep-deprived lately, so I felt I'd earned the right to sleep late. And I did sleep late, too. Really late. It must've been, ooh, 6:00, 6:15 before I finally stumbled out of the rack.
What woke me up was a mockingbird outside my window, going through some vocal acrobatics. Don't mistake me, I cannot think of a more pleasant way to awaken. And this guy was going to town! I mean he was a crazy bird! He was going zinng-zinng! Powee! Kazoom! (Mockingbirds do not actually make any of these noises, but the actual noises he was making are irreproducible in print.)
Keats wrote a beautiful poem to a nightingale, which he fittingly titled, "Ode to a Nightingale," and in it, he gets off some pretty good lines, such as saying the song "ofttimes hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn." That's sort of the way it was for me. The mockingbird not only filled the air outside the window, it charmed the window itself. It would have been equally fitting to look out, hearing that wild ruckus, and see Narnia or Prydian, as Brookhaven, Georgia.
I guess they must not've had mockingbirds where Keats came from, or maybe he'd have written a poem about them instead. I'd like to write a poem about a mockingbird myself, except I don't write poems. I write blogs.
(Originally posted 2012)