One bird chirps outside my window. One bird in the dark. He chirps again, proud to be the one who calls forth the morning. A gentle breeze filters through the screen and as it brushes over me I arise. I close the window and lower the shades so Angus will sleep another few hours after working through much of the night.

I don’t want to miss a moment of the awakening world so I hurry, grab my robe and tiptoe down the stairs. Not wanting to invade my world with artificial light, I maneuver easily through the darkness to the kitchen. The numerals shine at me from the microwave clock, 5:55. By the glow I choose a mug, the one Zeke brought me back from the Petrified Forest, fill it with yesterday’s coffee and zap it for 50 seconds. It is stuffy in the house and I am impatient to get outside. I open the back door and step into the place between night and morning.

My wake-up bird is still calling, singing out his joy. I hear “This is the day the Lord hath made!” in his four little notes and my mind sings the answering “Let us rejoice and be glad in it!” The chairs are still stored for winter so I sit cross-legged on the deck, facing the woods beyond and listen to the world wake up. The silhouettes of the trees stand out against the gray sky. Another bird sings out from the Hackberry tree beside me and the duet begins.

There is a refreshing breeze and it plays with the little dragonfly chimes and sprinkles tinkling notes as more birds begin to join the chorus. Now and then the breeze picks up and the bamboo chimes chunk its bass tones into the melody. An owl barks out a single “hoot” and a turkey “gobbles” every few bars. He must’ve been roosting in the trees out back and knowing this sends a wave of pleasure through me.

I notice the tops of the trees waving their arms to the morning music. The sky is already lightening into a pale gray and I can make out the lovely white branches of the sycamore by the creek. There is still no color in the dawning sky so the Red Bud, in full bloom looks as if it has been swallowed by a cloud. The slender branches of the Maple sway gently and even the knobby, angled branches of the Hickory dance.

The breeze is growing stronger, probably bringing with it the rain predicted later in the day. The chimes become a frenzy of tinkles and clunking and the birds are a full choir now. A squirrel chatters at me and urges me to get on with my day. I reluctantly stand, my mug now empty but my heart is full. I have been gladdened and feel grateful for life. Today I start my day with joy.