On clear mornings here in the mountains, just as the first light of the sun begins to fill the sky, the birds start to sing. Many different species tweet and twitter and call; the result is varied, and loud.
Sometimes the neighborhood dogs join in. There are at least four of them, and they take their duties in life very seriously, and bark at everything that moves.
After some time the birds leave off – maybe they go to breakfast – and silence returns. But by then it is too late. I am awake, and more pertinently, so is the baby, padding around the house in his sleeper, calling, “Moooooooooom?”
I wish I could say that at this hour of the day I am seated at the kitchen table, drinking a meditative cup of coffee, waiting for the little ones to wake up. Alas, it just isn’t so. Eventually I will get into a good early rising routine; then I might experience daybreak’s never-ending glory with a less jaundiced eye.