Each morning as I sit at my desk I hear the cheep cheeping of a mother bird feeding her baby.

In a well positioned nest atop a ficus tree outside my kitchen window, what looks like a red-whiskered Bulbul watches over her baby bird and one sadly unhatched spotted egg. The favored food seems to be plump crimson berries, delivered at steady intervals throughout the day.

It’s your Monday morning moment of zen.
 

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