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There is now the faintest possible light in the sky over the lake.
When I was about eight years old my mum got me up in the dark to drive out into the countryside and listen to the birds waking up. She had a book with an illustration of all the birds in the dawn chorus. We sat in the dark and listened, and I was completely amazed that we did this crazy thing.
I’ve just remembered it.
"... listen to the birds waking up."
Love that.
And oddly, the poem I wrote about this morning (before I read your piece) is about listening to birds inside a birdhouse, singing together.
Happy day to you, Kate!
@katebowles that's such a nice idea :) i want to do it now!