First Note

First note: 

there's a narrow window of quiet in the time just before dawn, even the few sounds to reach me are somehow muted by this hour. I wake early for this, to be immersed in silence, meditate, perform my rituals of writing, coffee at hand and then the wait for words. There are times when I'm tempted to sleep a little longer, rolling over for a few more minutes, or more, as it's early enough that I could extend my sleep by an hour and still not cut into the productiveness of my day. But then I would miss that first note of the morning's birdsong - how it emerges from the almost pure silence of its hold, and then seems to hang in the air for my notice, artful, a sound woven through the quiet as if just for me to hear. It's always one note, tentative, and with a long return to silence after before committing to entire song. 

it seems somehow a holy moment.

these are the moments right after sitting in meditation, and I find myself as deeply hushed as the morning, what few thoughts appear drift slowing through my mind without added commentary of mental chatter. I am as untouched by thought as the sky is by any passing cloud. This is unique to morning, at least by its depth and the quality of stillness. Perhaps this is why that first note of birdsong resonates so deeply, as I am so purely receptive to its greeting, listening to its first, gentle, almost seamless break of silence, its hushed and easy return to the quietness of the moment...and then giving voice to actual song. 

this is my participation, bearing witness to this inspiration, that very first note of morning song, my listening essential to the uniqueness of its creation. Without my presence this moment wouldn't happen, not in this way, as I am the added element to this listening that takes great pleasure to its arrival. Maybe tomorrow I will miss this, rolling over for one more hour of needed slumber, there's always that chance and sometimes it's a temptation. But not this morning, right now I am fully immersed in song, inspired, warmth of coffee, and easy flow of words. 

it seems somehow a holy moment. 

~

Peace, Eric