Early

I am up earlier than usual these days, perhaps preparing for the coming time change. It was still dark when I stepped out on the porch and listened to the night sounds. Tree frogs, some insects...what are the ones that sing at night?...and one lone whippoorwill calling a forlorn attempt at late summer romance. An apple fell with a whisper through leaves that rustled as if already drying out, thunked on the ground and rolled downhill, where the deer will be sure to find it later.

Just now I hear the birds waking, a few drowsy chirps high in the tree tops, and one bright little song up in the meadow. Even the chickens are quiet, sleeping in for a change but soon their busy clucking will announce the start of their workday.

There are no human noises yet. Not that I can hear anyway. I am the lone human awake within a mile on this side of the ridge...well, our house is the only house for a half mile in either left or right direction on this side of the hill, although there are several neighbors on the other side. How well I remember the days when it was a mile to anyone's house, when there was no human noises but what we made.

It is getting light now, and I hear the crunch of gravel under tires from a mile or so away. Soon the school bus will huff and puff it's way across our road that winds a narrow, twisting path along the crest of the hill. A cardinal is at the feeder and the hummingbirds have started their daily skirmishes at their nectar feeders.

It is time to make tea and coffee and get busy with the day. Thank you for sharing these quiet moments with me.



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