Morning Call

It’s so quiet I can hear myself breathe. Then he begins to sing. Piercing and long are his calls. The eastern horizon is but a paler shade of midnight blue, hardly an inkling of sunrise, but he knows. I listen without moving. I can’t see him, but he sounds like a Western Wren or possibly a Yellowthroat. I wonder how he knows in all this dark. More curious is how the others remain quiet for at least fifteen to twenty minutes. This time gap is as consistent as the sun. It’s as if everyone is in the silent awe of daybreak. Not a sound, not a tweet, not a bark. Just that single, piercing note to call us all to the eastern alter. So I pray. I fix upon the distant horizon and I talk to the spirits about all I have to be grateful for. Such wonder fills me that I then realize how he knows, but more importantly, why he sings.

12 thoughts on “Morning Call

  1. lovely! I felt like I was standing there listening as well. I also find it fascinating that quiet-during-the-day birds sing like crazy at sunset.

  2. How soulful Noelle. Looking at these photos brought me a deep sense of stillness. I just posted on being more present and enjoying the journey and here I see your post as my first stop on the reader….so in the flow! Have a wonderful day soul sister.

    • Well this has happened to us before. I’ll head over to read your piece now. This topic of really relishing this moment as thoroughly as possible has been on my mind a great deal, of late. Thanks for stopping in. May your weekend be filled with beauty and bliss.

  3. I enjoyed this one too! I often go outside and speak with my birds. I know I’m not speaking their language, but they know who I am and when it’s me walking around outside. They are also calming and relaxing. My favorites are the Spotted Towhees, song sparrows, and black-capped chickadees. 🙂

  4. I love black-capped chickadees. Such personality. Have you ever seen the film on PBS “Alone in the Wilderness”? It’s about a man in Alaska who goes to live on his own, building his own cabin and storing his own food at the age of 51. He lived out there for 30 years. In the film, he walks out his front door with bird feed in his hands. The birds alight all over him and use him as a bird feeder, eating from his hands. So incredibly beautiful. You just made me think of it. If you haven’t, I think you can even watch it for free on YouTube. It’s an odd little film, but curiously hypnotic to watch.

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