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August 10th  2011    Tim Candler

    Mockingbirds have returned from their annual conference, or maybe their holiday.  It's about a week they are gone.  And in the end their absence is perhaps just a shyness, a sense of "did I really say that."  But I would like to think it's the Grand Pooh-Bah of Mockingbirds that calls them to an Eisteddfod of singing and poems to fresh up purpose before autumn time and the battles for winter territory.

      They are not like us.  They don't just pay the winner, fill his refrigerator and send him to live in a gated community.  Indeed no one's quite certain which Mockingbird the grand Pooh-Bah is.  So I guess it's a democracy of each each man for himself that Mockingbird's have.  Some in my own species believe we too could be like them.  Others incline to the idea that when we last tried to be like Mockingbirds it was called the dark Ages. But who really knows.

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