It's a horrible day for weather here today. It's rainy and windy with temperatures in the low 40's. I even think I may have seen some wintry mix earlier. I was watching the weather through my window when I saw a lone bird fly like mad through the skies just above my yard. It's been a little while since I'd seen any birds and it was a little surprising considering the time of year. That's when it dawned on me - it was a slacker bird. Here's how I figure it:
     Around mid-September, Slacker Bird is hanging around with his friends. They're all talking about how they're getting their affairs in order to make the yearly trek down south. They ask how his preparations are coming.
    
     "Dude, honestly, I haven't even started on that."
     "Wow, really?"
     "Yeah, well, you know, it's just me. I figure I can just throw a few twigs in a bag at the last minute. It's all good."
     "Um...OK...if you're sure."
     "Oh yeah. Totally."

     Fast forward a few weeks. It's the height of ornithological travel season. He gets a visit from one of his buddies.
    
     "Hey, I don't know if you've planned on traveling with any particular flock, but I wanted to let you know that there's room if you want to go with me and the family. We're leaving early Saturday morning."
     "Yeah, dude, I don't know. Maybe. I'll let you know."

     Of course, Saturday morning comes and he hasn't let his friend know. So, the flock stops by on their way out of town to see if he's coming.
 
    "Oh man, I was up SO LATE last night. Some of my worming buddies are taking off this weekend so we had one last fling. It was crazy, man! We were up chirping so late that the humans had to come break it up. I'd planned to do my packing last night but, yeah, well, I mean, you know."
     "OK, S.B., well, we have to get going. I guess we'll catch you next spring."
     "Oh yeah! Totally!"

     Eventually, the last of the large groups takes off for warmer weather. Slacker Bird knows he should get his stuff together and go, but now that he has things pretty much to himself, he decides to put it off a little longer. It's unseasonably warm, there's no more competition for the choicest worms, and there's no one left to complain if he rustles the leaves a little too much when he comes home after a few too many fermented berries. He's set. Then, one morning as he's sleeping-in in his nest, something hits him. Literally. It's an icy drop, right between the eyes.

     "Naw man, oh, this is NOT cool."

     He starts frantically packing stuff up, but it's not as easy as he thought it would be. He always underestimates how long it will take him to do anything. Meanwhile, the wintery mix is getting stronger and fiercer. He finally gets his gear together, most of it hanging out the side of his old gym bag because that's all he has for luggage and he didn't have time to do it properly. He starts hauling tail out of the state, eventually flying right by my window. You can't fool me, Slacker Bird. I know your deal.