Tag Archives: Kurundu Bird

The house drips and shudders.

Bubo has returned wet and cranky from a bleak and stormy hunt. The drunken goat child has disappeared. The Kurundu Bird is singing with the rain. The Blue Wuzzelthump has been adopted. I am sipping whiskey and listening to the storm rattle this old house on the back of the hill in Brooklyn.

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Mysteriously, the rain fell inside.

You should know that the Kurundu Bird’s song mimics falling rain. Perfect for reading in an enormous wing back chair.

Tonight, it’s Margery Allingham’s The Case of the Late Pig.

Tomorrow, undoubtedly, it will be a compendium of poisonous plants.

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