I awoke this morning with the first hint of light. I blame the Owl. He was hooting and screeching, making such a racket, it roused me from my sleep with a startle. I then cozied back under the covers to try to resume some semblance of sleep but it just wouldn't come. So I lay there for a long time, listening to the quiet of the house and letting some of my thoughts run through my head, as they will when all is silent and there is no interruptions.
I decided at this point to get up and enjoy the solitude that comes with early mornings. I crept downstairs and put the kettle on, ensuring that the whistle was disengaged. I went out and picked blueberries to go with breakfast, and startled a few robins that had the same idea. Hummingbirds were zipping around my head and my dog was sniffing around my feet, helping himself to the blueberries on the lower branches. But the world was anything but silent. The symphony that was taking place around me was breathtaking. There were birds everywhere, and they were giving their grandest performance. It was so beautiful, I started to cry. Not tears of sadness, but ones of joy that I am so blessed to be alive one more day. They say that the chorus of birds at dawn is to attract their mates and to defend their territory. My romantic theory is that they are welcoming the light, and singing their joy of the day. I don't care if my theory is unscientific, it makes me happy.
I came back in and made my husband a steaming hot cup of coffee with freshly ground beans. I scooped up a bowl of cottage cheese and sprinkled on the blueberries. I crept back up stairs and woke him up with a smile. The steam from the coffee wafted around him and he stretched out, his face breaking out in to a smile of his own. I told him to listen, and he did, to the chorus that was still in full force, and when I saw his face, I knew he felt just as I did. It is a great day to be alive.