once awakened my hearing tuned into the delightful birdsong most complex, long, softly melodic and ranging as any symphony and i have to say lyrical because having understood the quality wondered to listen closely so as to ascertain meaning and content, but it got distant, as if the male birdsongstress* finished her performance and moved to a next stage for a different audience giving way to the incessant clucking of a chicken and me wondering is that not the sound along the laying of eggs. so i got up to follow the sound, the better to locate the eggs to make a search short, only to find said hen standing on her own post of a stage ---my windshield wiper. I ran her nothing to gain but poop and empty sound
there is much to learn and gain by waking up with the sun to a new day
Good Morning
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