Ever since surgery I can't sleep for extended periods of time. I wake up with this incredibly stiff back. I bring my legs into my chest and roll mildly from side to side like a laying-down weeble-wobble -- OK, if you weren't little in the '70's you probably don't know what a weeble-wobble is, but it's not a compliment and I'm a broken weeble-wobble.
So usually it's about 4:00 a.m. when I wobble back and forth. Outside my window I hear the mountain chickadees singing. Their little voices are so strong. I also have sparrows and what sounds like thrushes. The birds sing heartily at four in the morning. I can picture each one scurrying about, looking for worms, insects, collecting things from the ground, feeding little chicks. The birds of the morning do not argue, fuss, or fight with each other like you see later in the day. They dance, hurry about their business, and sing.
Within the next ten minutes (it's about 5:20 a.m. right now), the eastern sky will begin to turn a beautiful rosy pink color as the sun crests the horizon. This light filters through my north kitchen window because the sun is so high in the sky right now -- it's almost the summer solstice.
Once the sun makes its appearance the singing becomes just a whisper.
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