I was sorry for the robin which was singing its heart out at 11 pm in High Wycombe station car-park. It was a lovely accompaniment while I found my car, but it felt all wrong.
The artificial light must have made it think it was daytime. When would it sleep? I hoped the lights would go off soon to give it some rest.
It reminded me of the all-night cuckoo at Sligachan, Skye, in May 1994 though he, presumably, was an insomniac by choice.