There's a nightingale or two in the woods.
They're small birds, sparrow-sized, and about as flashy: drab brown is the best way to describe them.
I expect they get their voice from another dimension, because how else can a bird that size be that loud?
There's lots in the woods nearby, and having two of them singing at each other is nice -- for about 10 minutes. Then it gets tedious.
So imagine, if you will, a night in early summer, when it's so hot that you have to open your windows. Imagine also a bird which never ever repeats itself, shouting its little head off in the woods nearby. Now look at the clock: 1 am. 2 am. 3 am. 4 am ... as the song of the nightingale is ever variable you can't get used to it, and it's impossible to go to sleep on the noise.
Frankly, I fail to see the appeal of nightingales.