What’s with all the freakin’ birds?

After working for far too long on a huge (and well-written!) profile, I wander out into the rainy, pre-dawn city streets only to be greeted by an avian cacophony the likes of which I have never heard. Perhaps they were on hand to greet the Times delivery man — or the guy setting up the coffee cart.

Either way, shouldn’t they have been huddled under little bird umbrella somewhere? Or in bed?

Or maybe I’m just projecting …