Like Hitchcock Only Not Creepy

There is the skeleton of a mall a few miles from our house that is playing host to a spectacular bird migration right now. My neighbor sent me a video a few weeks ago of her kids exploring the parking lot with black speckles swooping above their heads and we had to go.

We gave Eddy a bath and left our house at about 8, stopped for a six-pack of beers, and found a spot to park among other eager bird watchers.

The night that we went was one of those magical Texas summer nights just before rain. As giant storm clouds rolled in, the temperature dropped and the wind swirled around us. It felt wild and spooky and electric.

It reminded me of one of those nights from your childhood that you remember for all time. This one night, when we were kids, my parents took us out in our pajamas...

According to a friend on Instagram, it's still going on so get there if you're in Austin.

And to answer your burning question, no, we did not get pooped on.

On our way home, Tim said, "That is totally one of those things that white people do. Go watch Science." This half-white girl/former science teacher was totally geeking out.

So, am I the only mom out there that cries at ridiculous times? I going to assume I'm not.

There I was, snapping pictures of my little family on my favorite kind of summer night doing my favorite kind of thing. And I was crying.

Shut up.

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