The phone was ringing! Ever since my dear cousin passed away, I am always wary of late-night incessant phone calls.  They are harbingers of doom and gloom.  No one calls you at 2.30am to tell you anything good.  It seems there is a code – all bad news must be shared immediately, but good news can wait for the light of day!

It was my housekeeper calling.  Mooshoo was having another seizure and she needed my help to administer the emergency medication.  I crawled out of bed, half asleep and went to help.  This medication works fast.  In a few minutes, Mooshoo was back to her usual self and ready for sleep.  So, I too went back to bed to try and catch some sleep before the usual morning noise crew – aka weaver birds started their song and praise for the new day.

Once I was in bed, I heard her.  I know it was a she because there is no male, of any species, capable of being that vocal at 2.30am.  This was a bird.  Remember I told you the rains had come and the birds were nesting all over my compound? Well, what I did not tell you was that there were two particular trees that seemed to be prime estate for the birds.  They were teeming with nests.  What I also did not tell you was that those same trees have had upwash lights that had stopped working.  They look really pretty at night, but after one of the downpours, they became waterlogged and stopped functioning.  And then I had them fixed.

Those upwash lights were now lighting up the nests full of birds. One poor little bird must have thought the upwash lights were some sort of little sun glowing on her nest and reminding her it was morning.  She sang her heart out – loud, clear and melodious. There was only one problem – these trees are right outside my bedroom window.  I listened to her sing until the real sun came up.  Needless to say, I spent a very loopy sleep deprived day.

For a couple of days, she would wake at 2.30am and sing her melodious song.  I have not yet identified her, but her song is a thing of wonder.  Then the singing stopped. Abruptly and without notice.  She was no longer singing at 2.30am.  Where was she? Had a stray cat gotten to her? A snake perhaps? It was a puzzle I could not crack.

Then I figured it out, and here’s what I think happened.  I think she was a new nester, having started a family in a prime area but doing this for the first time.  I think she had never had to sing her morning song when the sun rose, and since she had never nested before, she did not know about my upwash lights.  I think her neighbors called her for an evening of worms and bugs and explained to her that in this prime area, there were three suns.  There was the sun that rose at dawn and went down at dusk, but there were two other fake suns that did not need to be announced as they went away when the real sun came up at dawn.  They must have told her that she did not need to announce the rising of the fake suns. She needed to wait for the real sun that came up and brought warmth and light everywhere.  That was the sun that they were meant to celebrate in song.

Needless to say, she has not sung at 2.30am since.  Someday, I will figure out her name, and I will salute her for her wonderful song!