The loudest bird in all of Fayetteville roosts in our backyard. He mimics a car alarm. The first time he woke me, I was still dozing and thought someone was prying the radio from my dashboard. For a moment, I thought I was back in Dallas.

A mockingbird, perhaps?

The scout for all birds, he is the messenger for morning. Once he gives his signal, our trees are flooded with chirping, tweeting birds. 

All night, the rain pounded against the tin roof, and the wind howled. I slept peacefully. Until the car alarm bird sounded.