This morning I woke to the sound of the persistent mockingbird. This bird, or his replacement, likes to sit on top of a tall light pole across the street and sing his little heart out. It's spring and it's threatening to be summer, and he's ready for action. He went into every conceivable form of trill and too...weet too...weet and song after song. There is no doubt in my mind that this singing feels good to him, that he likes it. The fact that it probably attracts the attention of some nearby females is just gravy. The  fact that I love it, well, he doesn't care.

This afternoon was marked more by the sounds of children in the pool across the street. That could be a happy sound, and today it has been, mostly. But at such high decibel levels that it makes me cranky. I just want them to stop screaming. Right. Now. I am not going to be the cranky fuddy duddy so they may never know it bothers me. But honestly, if those were my children I do believe I'd tell them to cut the levels a notch or two. It doesn't seem like anyone realizes how that sound carries.

Speaking of animals, my darling Stretch kitty is back in the fold. He came in and stayed all night the other night and has been in and out since, and is right now on my lap, where he belongs. This kitty doesn't make much sound at all. He is a quiet, sweet cat who just likes to be nearby, who has a soft purr and a gentle nature. Even when he was shunning me he could not strike out at me. The most he could do is give me looks. I missed him and am so happy to have him back.