In the early morning hours while the sky was still inky black, a lone bird began to sing outside my window. He kept up his song without interruption for over an hour, only stopping when the first dim light appeared on the horizon. Satisfied that the dawn would come, he allowed himself to rest.
I was left with the fanciful notion that the world would continue to turn on its axis as long as there was one small bird left to demand the dawn.
Later in the morning as I sat in the garden, a hummingbird darted over the cherry sage blossoms a few feet in front of me. Alas, Gentle Reader, he was too quick for my camera.