Lovely! I spy a goodly grub-nipping spot! Promising! I shall make haste, flapping with all my might to the roof of yonder yellow house!
Ah, I alight on the roof as a delicate nutty bundle of gossamer feathers and nerve—for I am the Early Bird. Lo, is that my brother Sol peeking over the green verdant cover of the eastern horizon? Aye! Greetings! May you exhale warming sunbeams on me as I begin…
da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
Odd. This tree confounds me. Rather than succumbing to force of my steady head’s rapping, it remains strong. And the sound it emits rings hollow and cold. I am not a quitter, however. Carry on!
da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
Quite puzzling. Though my beak beats incessantly, no hole grows. No surrender of the bark, no taste of earthy loam on my tongue, no fibrous tendrils darken my proud beak? Nevertheless…
da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
Egads! My lack of progress is befuddling. I shall try harder, and longer. This tree sounds not unlike a bell.
da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
“He conquers who endures.” The sage Aulus Persius Flaccus spoke no truer words. I shall conquer this tree!
da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
Why, there is a woman below. She peers in my direction, none too happy it appears. Garden gnomes bedeck her apparel, and her hair resembles the unfinished nest of a bird imprisoned in clumsy youth. Her voice is raised, and her white wing pounds on a pipe. The vibration is travelling up to this very odd tree.
I think she wants me to retreat back to my nest. I shall return tomorrow, when dawn’s light is an orange soaking stain intruding on blackest night.
This I vow!
Ah! His brother is beating on my chimney every morning at sunrise! Why my house? What a rude awakening to have to get out of bed and get dresssed and run outside in my flip flops to scare him away!
Though sleep may take flight as yonder woodpecker, take comfort in thine own wit! It bringeth joy both far and near!
> especially this part.
oh crap. my lack of html knowledge hath been the death of my comment. *sigh* what I meant was:
“Garden gnomes bedeck her apparel, and her hair resembles the unfinished nest of a bird imprisoned in clumsy youth.” especially THIS part!
oh crap. my lack of html knowledge hath been the death of my comment. *sigh* what I meant was especially THIS part:
“Garden gnomes bedeck her apparel, and her hair resembles the unfinished nest of a bird imprisoned in clumsy youth.”
okay i’m going back to bed now. the woodpeckers have obviously been at my brain. sorrrrrry!!!
LOL, Jenni. Four comments for the price of one…
You have garden gnome jammies? Rad.
I do.
Ah yes, the (metal) vent cover for our attic fan makes a nice hollow metallic looking “tree” in our neighborhood as well. That, coupled with the roar of hot air balloons hovering over our house, make for some pretttty early weekend mornings. 🙂
This is hilarious, mopsy. And now I’m wondering if your name “mopsy” isn’t on account of your hair??
Ha, ha, ha, ha better you than us! I found Woody woodpecker anoying enough as a cartoon let alone one of his live feathered friends pecking away before the kids are up. Good luck scaring him away, especially before we come for a visit!