I heard, or thought I heard, a few pure notes from a nightingale last night, very late in the dark. Herself says I can't have, wrong time of year she insists. But it certainly wasn't an owl (there are lots round here, two kinds) and the guinea-fowl don't speak when it's pitch dark.
I certainly wasn't dreaming or asleep. However later on I had a long, realistic, convincing dream about smoking dope with the Obamas, who were utterly charming. I'm afraid the amount I drink may sometimes disturb my kip. Tsk.
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Wasn't a robin was it? They're very (surprisingly?) tuneful:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nrw9xPCFtYw
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Herself assures me that robins don't sing before dawn. Perhaps it was later than I thought.
But the song I heard was just a few pure, mournful single notes. Blackbirds and thrushes sing jazz riffs, quite complex stuff.
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She's wrong about robins:
www.birdguides.com/webzine/article.asp?print=1&a=3623
I remember hearing one in the middle of the night when I stayed with a friend in north London.
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>> She's wrong about robins:
She's never wrong JB. Street lighting (see below).
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>> Herself assures me that robins don't sing before dawn.
Can't they (and other birds) be confused by streetlights?
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That's certainly true of robins.
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Praps Ludders me ol' mate you ain't drinking enuff. Fink it fru my Dear!
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