losing 2 hours of sleep a night wouldn’t seem like much, but after a while, the body suggests otherwise. your mental focus drifts. your back feels rigid. your appetite disappears. impure thoughts become your friend.
i’m there, man.
if nothing else, the fall migration has been a bit enigmatic. there are no set patterns and nothing i have seen makes me go “i’ve seen this before” in this, my 8th year of banding at my homestead, my mecca, my center of the universe.
depsite the personal bemoanings though, every night i come home from work means i get a bit excited. i eat hurriedly. my heartbeat elevates. pain radiates through my arm.
i’ve been through 25 years of both springtime and autumnal obsessive/compulsive owling and don’t know what i’d do as a substitute. when i retire, i tell myself i will band all night and change my schedule to fit the owls’, like i used to. those were some crazy days of youth and erstwhile youth.
i was driven to satisfy my curiousity and for the most part, i did.
everything, and nothing has changed.