snemma á fætur

I have to admire the skógarþröstur I passed this morning on my way to work. He held a truly impressive collection of worms in his (her?) beak. He eyed me with a look of accomplishment from the hedge before going on his way.

I was coming in later than usual (though not shockingly so) after a later-than-usual night among musicians at a pub, tapping my foot to a beat that sent the pint glasses marching inexorably over the table edges. I don't regret it. But I see today that it pays to rise early with a proverb already in mind.