Serenade

Gaura lindheimeri ‘Little Rose’ just coming into bloom

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.

Anthem

At the last light, well after sunset, a throng of wrens in the surrounding trees suddenly burst into song. I only see two or three of them during the day, but when they join together in the evening serenade, there must be hundreds of them hidden in the trees. They finally settle down when the light has completely faded. Then again, at the first light of dawn, the anthem begins again and continues until the sun has risen.

In the short life of a bird, I suppose the going and coming of the light is indeed a momentous thing. I need to learn from this.