Early this morning before the sun had even begun to rise, I heard the strangest noise outside. I did my best to ignore it, though it was quite distracting. It sounded as if someone were on my roof, throwing pennies from my roof onto my air conditioning unit. Ping, Ping, Ping. And much rustling of leaves. I briefly wondered if my 80 some-odd year landlord had taken it upon himself to clean out the gutters at 5:30 AM.
As the sun started to rise and I could see better, I ventured a look out my window. There, in my backyard, were hundreds and hundreds of black birds. They were every where--on my roof, on my deck (pooping) and in my yard. On my shed and in the trees. And they were feasting on acorns, then proceeding to throw the shells down. It was raining acorns. I'm sure if someone had been standing under the tree, they would have received an acorn concussion.
So, in tribute to my not-so-fine feathered friends, I turn to a mash-up of Hitchcock's The Birds. Still one of the scariest movies I've ever seen.