Hibernation has the greatest appeal right now. Curling up under layers of warmth, dreaming of sunny skies. We have had weeks of miserable and overcast weather. It reminds me of living in England. For our part of the world; wet and overcast are not words we identify with. As blistering as the summers are, so icy cold is winter. But the sun is still there. And the rain is starkly absent. Not this year.
This year our semi-desert farm valley has flooded. Not once or twice but three times! Plus the sky is just a continual mass of grey clouds. If I didn't know better I would think the sun migrated to another part of the world. Even on days without rain, the skies are dark and bleak. Just when I decide to hibernate until Spring, the air is filled with a resounding orchestra of bird song. What is going on? It sounds like a feathered philharmonic orchestra despite the torrential rain. Suddenly the rain stops and sunshine streams through the clouds.
Who needs a second invitation? We head out to the sunshine. It's a beautiful winter day. Freezing cold but with the delicious embrace of the sun. The birds are singing sweetly. The winter aloes are blooming and the mountainside is a show of orange. Darting among the aloes are striking sunbirds. And then I see him.
Blissfully ignorant of anything but the wonderful sunshine the Malachite sunbird is perched on a prickly aloe ferox. Fast asleep. I sneak over with my camera and his eyes flash open. He darts around his aloe. Sipping from the blossoms. Singing sweetly. Darting around the aloe again. And finally snuggling on the prickles, to watch me with slit eye lids.
Whether you sing for your supper or whether singing puts you to sleep; why not join 
Now go away and let me sleep.....
