Every storm runs out of rain, just like every dark night turns into day.
Gary Allan
Feathers blown and wet
A mockingbird stopped to rest
Safe - from one more storm.
There is no fundamental difference between man and animals in their ability to feel pleasure and pain, happiness, and misery.
Charles Darwin
The mockingbird is the state bird of Florida (where I am now). I hear them singing whenever I go for a walk. Their songs are beautiful- some borrowed from other birds or animals (and even occasionally, car horns and alarms), some their own. They’re known for singing pretty much all day long and even sometimes into the night if they’re looking for a mate.
Usually, they are very neat and orderly in appearance, but we had a violent wind and rainstorm one afternoon this week, and when it was over, I saw this one little rain-drenched bird on the wooden pole next to my apartment building. He looked cold, and was breathing heavily. I thought of the times I’ve been caught in a rainstorm unexpectedly and gotten soaked through my clothes to the skin. The bone deep shivering. The goosebumps. At least I have a place to come in out of the wind and rain -and dry things to change into. He just had to wait for his feathers to dry - out there on that pole in the wind. Brr. But I’m really glad he made it through the storm.
Thank you so much for being here. See you next week!
Two days before the storm, I took a picture of a dry mockingbird standing on a post near the beach. This is how they’re supposed to look.