Eigenmumbles

The Detroit airport is loud a lot of the time. Most airports are. Every few moments, there is a TSA announcement, or a gate announcement, or a request that someone go to the courtesy telephone. The tram that runs from one end of the terminal to the other rumbles overhead. And, of course, there is a constant bustle of people.

But in the moments between all that, you can hear the birds in the rafters. I’m not sure how they got inside; and if they get in with any regularity, I imagine the maintenance crews view them as pests. But here and now, I’m glad to hear them.