Coffee With The Neighborhood Birds - Latest Word From The Stoop

On the stoop listening to the birds chatter on this bright, sunny morning and drinking coffee from a thick, red Waffle House mug my daughter brought home last year.

The mug is red because it was a Christmas gift from a boy. I like it, despite its provenance. It's heavy and substantial, like a diner mug should be.

I suppose I should be grateful that I know how it ended up in my house. Soon enough, my daughter will be accepting gifts (or not) from boys that I will know nothing about and about whom I will know less. She's heading to college this fall.

I also don't know and will likely remain largely ignorant about birds. My skill at identifying them is lacking, but those hanging around my house this morning seem to be robins, with their warm, orangish waistcoats beneath grey-brown feathers. They seem not to have a care in the world as they happily call to each other even as my Twitter feed fills up with the latest word from Virginia Beach, where a gunman on Friday killed twelve people before dying in a gun battle with police.

I was on duty in the newsroom on Saturday morning when city officials identified the dead during a deeply distressing media briefing. And I was back in the newsroom on Sunday morning as more details emerged from the investigation and survivors began telling their stories.

The Virginia Beach shooting was our lede all weekend. And now I'm on the stoop, listening to the neighborhood birds as their chatter is carried away on the breeze.

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