The trees are a little way away from this building, separated by an oversized parking lot. But even though, and perhaps because, the trees are so far, one can hear the sweet calls of various birds from time to time, especially in the dead of night; which is strange. Birds are usually not up so late. Maybe that's also part of man's contribution toward the disturbance of the echosystem?
It's very late at night and the din of the traffic has died out. It's very very quiet; just ten minutes before midnight, and I can hear this persistent, most sweetest of all, song of a solitary bird. Its musical, whistling melody is most soothing to the soul. I stop reading and listen to the bird. Its tone and syllables rise and fall as they ride the wind. Wonder what bird it is? It sounds exotic. I wonder if it is too restless, or too restful at this hour of the night. It has been singing for the past hour now and I wonder who will fall asleep first; the bird or I?
It's very late at night and the din of the traffic has died out. It's very very quiet; just ten minutes before midnight, and I can hear this persistent, most sweetest of all, song of a solitary bird. Its musical, whistling melody is most soothing to the soul. I stop reading and listen to the bird. Its tone and syllables rise and fall as they ride the wind. Wonder what bird it is? It sounds exotic. I wonder if it is too restless, or too restful at this hour of the night. It has been singing for the past hour now and I wonder who will fall asleep first; the bird or I?
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