Currently, there is a duck — or perhaps a succesion of single ducks — which utters, vividly, outside my bedroom window in the early hours. Rather than this tapestry of melodious twitters, I get an arrhythmic series of brassy honks, which drives Nickel Catmium just about half around the bend (typically, she is standing on my chest or face at this point, which is awkward).
Anseriformes should have to audition for these events.
Currently, there is a duck — or perhaps a succesion of single ducks — which utters, vividly, outside my bedroom window in the early hours. Rather than this tapestry of melodious twitters, I get an arrhythmic series of brassy honks, which drives Nickel Catmium just about half around the bend (typically, she is standing on my chest or face at this point, which is awkward).
Anseriformes should have to audition for these events.
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All I get here are blackbirds and swallows. Well, and pigeons, but those don’t count. Or sing.
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