The birds outside my bedroom window go crazy every morning. I love it.They wake up – sometimes one by one, other times as groups – all with something so say, something to contribute. Perhaps they are calling out to friends or family; perhaps they are marking their territory or chasing squirrels from their nest; perhaps they simply like to hear themselves sing. It doesn’t matter to me. I just like the music – and or – noise they make.Because when they all chirp and tweet and whistle and trill and screech and caw and and hoot and peck and squawk,