I'm getting a little behind again. Shocker.
I did think of something yesterday; I just didn't take the time to write it down.
I sat in my bed after a non-heroic minute of snoozing, and I heard birds chirping outside. I've noticed them all week. They chirp and swing sweetly and cheerfully, even though the weather before Wednesday was frightful. They didn't seem to care.
Since junior high, I thought I hated birds. As it turns out, I probably just hated having to do 4 years of bird journals in science class. We had to make perfect little books and record every bird we saw, including the time, location, birdwatching companions, genus and species. The whole thing annoyed me and I came to dislike birds. Now, though, 18ish years after completing my last bird journal, I'm grateful for the experience. I still have (and sometimes even use) my copy of Birds of North America.
And now, since I'm a grown up (sort of), I can appreciate the birds, their vastness and variety and their different songs.
I still hate crows.