As I sit here sipping on my morning coffee, flavored with fake Splenda and vanilla creamer, I can hear some industrious and apparently happy birds chirping outside. That much chirping HAS to mean it's happy, and that it's a morning person. It clearly enjoys the morning. It's singing six or so different little chirpy "tunes" in succession, over and over and over, drowning out the individual peeps and occasional chirps from other birds. Other birds who, I can only assume, are rolling their little beady eyes at the sheer audacity of the Early Bird that's interrupting their quiet morning.
Seriously, this bird sounds like it's had six shots of super-charged espresso today, and it's not even 9:35 am. It's almost frantic, approaching an obnoxious tone in it's loudness. Maybe it realizes that it's incessant chirping is about to get it into trouble with other birds who haven't had the bird version of whatever the equivalent to six shots of espresso would be. I can imagine a sleepy-eyed squirrel, up all night with the little squirrelets and cranky, poking her head out of her tree hole and wondering what the flying frickers is going on with her neighbor nine trees down.
Uh oh. The frenetic chirping did stop rather suddenly. I can only imagine which one of her neighbors did her in.