The business of spring

We took advantage of yesterday's unseasonably warm (80 degree) weather to sit out on the porch after dinner, listening to the incessant chorus of spring peepers looking to attract others of their kind. It always amazes me that such small creatures make such a loud sound.

This morning, I woke to the cooing of the mourning dove, the distant hammering of a woodpecker, some bird songs I can't yet identify, and a tapping at the living room window. Tap, tap, tap ... silence. Tap, tap, tap ... silence. Tap, tap, tap ... silence.

It wasn't Edgar Allen Poe's raven, but rather a territorial robin who spends his mornings warding off perceived intruders. Some days he's pecking at his reflection in the western windows. Others, he's attacking the side mirrors on one of the cars.

Richard managed to catch a shot of the robin tapping at the window.

After a short time, I took decided to interrupt his futile effort so he could spend his energy in more fruitful ways. I opened the window, and he flew away.

The territorial robin who comes a tap-tap-tapping at our windows.