I was watching the birds this morning, listening to their dull cacophony through the curtains, accompanied by the nervous chattering of my cats, who so desperately wanted to eat them...and for whatever reason, I found myself remembering something I'd read years before.

"These are spots in your feasts of charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: clouds they are without water, carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth, without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots; Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever... These are murmurers, complainers, walking after their own lusts; and their mouth speaketh great swelling words, having men's persons in admiration because of advantage." Jude 12-16