I was having my morning beer, making coffee for Jimi, who was still half asleep on the couch, when it started.
"What the fuck is that?" Jimi grumbled from beneath his blankets.
"That's our headbanging robin," I told him. "Been smashing his head into our window for over a week now. Get up and come watch him."
"Ok," Jimi agreed. "But first I have to take a piss."
The robin was still at it when Jimi came over to the window.
"Whacking his head on the window seems to be part of his feeding strategy. Once he's done his headbanging he will head straight to the lawn and get himself some huge worms."
We watched. After several more whacks the robin headed for the grass and gobbled up several tasty worms before flying away.
"He'll be back," I told Jimi, "sure as shit comes out of the back end of a goose. But probably not for a couple hours."
"That's fucked up," Jimi observed.
"My backyard robin is a metaphor for our planet," I agreed.