Morning in the neighborhood

RANDOM THOUGHT . . . .It's been a long time since Mom baked a cake.
What is up with that?



It is dawn.
Not the crack of dawn per se . . .
Nope. No whipping and cracking and booming . . .

A gentle rain
Birds singing
I so adore the bird radio station
I don't know what happens when it snows.
It's like we forget to pay our PBS bill or something
The bird channel is so muted in the winter.

This morning the bird channel is coming in precise and clear.
They aren't territorializing so close that it's annoying
Just off there--in the trees
The Robins are the loudest this morning

And some other bird.
A foreigner.
I don't know what he's saying but he's persistent.

Auntie Kathy would know.
I should ask her.

I'd ask mom but that's still her first cup of coffee.
You don't get specific answers until at least the second cup.

First cup is "Yeah yeah yeah." "I hear you." and "That's nice."

First cup is where you confess your overnight sins. The sin of the hidden furball. The sin of the broken candle holder. The sin of riotous games of Pen Hockey. (Which I WON by the way!!!! VICTORY IS MINE!)

You fess up this stuff later in the day and you get looks of recrimination. Scolding and occassionally time outs in the basement.

The first cup, though . . . all you have to do is look sweet and innocent and tell her that you're glad she's up this morning so you could share these special moments of the dawn gently washing over the neighborhood.

Mornings are special.