Television is very bad for my brain. It isn't a matter of content. Television itself is bad for my brain. The more of it I watch, the less I think. I fall out of touch with the moment. After about five hours in front of the tube tonight, I went out and looked at the night and saw nothing. My mind is a bowl of mush. I think perhaps that less television is in store for me. I think that perhaps this is the only way I will be able to stay connected to reality. A lot less television. Yes.
Walking home, as I passed the last vacant lot along the field behind the orchard, I became aware of a sound like a high-pitched calliope playing several songs at once. I looked across the lot and saw two bare trees filled with birds. The variety of chirping, trilling, twittering, cheeping and whistling was astonishing. There were about twenty birds in one tree, and at least thirty in the other, and it sounded as though all of them were singing at once. At least some of the birds must have been some sort of lark. They had a song very similar to that of the meadowlark I heard the other day, but more complex and much faster. Somehow, their song seemed to tie together all the songs of the other birds and make it something other than cacophony. I think I may have been witness to the early stages of some sort of avian orgy. As far as the birds are concerned, spring, it seems, is here.