There is a mockingbird that likes to perch outside my bedroom door each morning and squawk mightily. This, despite that it’s 6 am and, due to the pandemic, I can sleep in. This bird does not care.

I noticed that on some mornings, I am grateful and happy to hear the bird.

Other mornings, I am annoyed and flirt with the idea of shooing it away.

Same bird. Same noise. Same time.

Different me.