First songbirds: 

it's before even the first songbirds of dawn chorus are awake - and there's only the sound of insects chirping in communication, coming closer to the pond I hear bullfrogs in a hoarse call and respond across the water. There's an occasional car heard faintly in the distance and I know there's about an hour at best before this sound increases, becoming almost angry in its intensity, effecting the quality of the morning with the growing rush of traffic. But right now, not even the first songbirds are awake, not quite ready to give their earliest note to the morning air...

yet soon, 

and I always see if I can capture that initial note, being at the very beginning of a day full of songs, seeing if my attention will be sharp enough to pinpoint the exact instant of dawn chorus and how it will then carry through the morning. It never seems to happen this way though, how it comes to me slowly as a surprise and finding that I've been hearing their song play for an untold length of time. The dawn chorus eases into song, completely natural to the ears, and with each note given so seamlessly to the air that it takes me a moment to realize that they haven't always been present. 

that's the magic of these quiet hours, a silence so holy that even the dawn chorus waits for an auspicious occasion to offer their initial note, being tentative at first, as if testing the quality of air to see if it will hold the weight of the song that's about to follow. It's this very moment that I hope will capture my attention, an initial note offered to the morning hours...

being the exact instant silence lends itself to their song. 

my walks begin with this listening.

and yet,

it seems I'm always taken by surprise be those seamless notes emerging. 

~

Peace, Eric