3:53. That’s what time the birds woke up this morning. I know this because I was awake, trying to sort out the details of a disturbing and convoluted dream I had just escaped from.

The sound of birdsong wiped the dream from my thoughts and I just listened while one loud bird announced daybreak to his avian friends.

Except it wasn’t quite yet. We were still an hour away from sunrise.

This bird was happy. He sounded strong and healthy. Just so full of joy that he just had to let it out.

His song made me happy. If that early morning birdsong turns out to be the highlight of his bird life today, it’s a day worth living. He made a difference in someone’s life for a few precious moments.

That’s a worthy goal for anyone at the start of another day.

When he stopped singing, I rolled over and went back to sleep for an hour. Now I’m sitting here with a mug of soy milky frothy coffee and Murphy snoozing on my lap and remembering that sweet song.

Thanks, bird, whoever you are. 🙂


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. I loved this! I so appreciate the many gifts from nature.

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