Morning Song

It was dark when I woke, just the faintest lightening of the deep blue to herald the sun’s rising. Through the open window of my bedroom another herald greets the coming dawn. The blackbird was perched on the tree so I could see the faint silhouette as I lay there listening to the concert. There is no music that betters a live performance, and the first song of the blackbird is the most beautiful of all.

I am lucky… though as I sit shivering on winter mornings I may not think so… as the dog requires instant and prolonged access to the garden. Being up so early I can listen to the dawn chorus most days. Sometimes, even so early, I am so busy that it is the just background music to activity, the half-heard soundtrack to thought and movement. Most days, however, I take the time to listen, revelling…