Thursday, July 7, 2011


One of the small joys of living out here in the country: I wake up in the morning, and through the open window I can hear all the birds singing.

I'm no expert on birds, I often don't know the species by name or by sight, but in the coolness of the early morning I know them by their song. Some of those same birdsongs I remember hearing through an open window in the morning, visiting my grandparents on their farm back when I was a kid. To this day those birdsongs are imprinted on my memory.

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