Riding on the roof

I have no idea what that means, but I like the sound of it. Well, maybe one idea. I get a little bird-driven in May, as you may have gathered from recent posts. And I may not be done. Still haven't seen my indigo bunting or bobolink. Probably too late for a Blackburnian. And as for the Canada, it's your move, dude. The point is, sometimes you've got to set your own agenda, especially in an almanac, which tends toward time-sensitive events. It doesn't have to. I mean, sure, I had a great two or three minutes this morning following a black-throated blue warbler up the rungs of a bush, grinning when it flared its wing briefly and the sun louvered through it. Happiness. Of the deep-sigh variety. But you can also take a break from the things you have to write about. You can just go riding on the roof.