Pausing in my headlong dash, the last-minute sprint, the why-did-I-not-do-it-earlier gallop to the opening night in 26 hours' time ... to watch all the tui in the strawberry tree.
He or she has the lacy collar or cape draped casually over the shoulders, and the cravat of a proper regency gentleman ... rather like this:
No, actually more like this. (Yes I possibly have been reading too much Patrick O'Brian.)
Anyway, after that build-up, back to the tui. There are about six working the tree at the moment and one always seems to be singing too. If you call that "graaack peep peep peep peedlepeedle plonk plonk graaackk!" a song.