Nightly obscurities

I have a little confession to make.

Sometimes when returning late from a night out, having possibly enjoyed one or two glasses of port too many, I shout “keep up the good work,” “hear hear,” or some other words of encouragement at the songbirds in my way.

I know this may sound is really strange, but there must be a reason why birds sing all night, all year round on these latitudes.

I like to think that I am doing my bit to keep this tradition in place.

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