Wake Up Calls

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I guess ever since life as we know it began, it has been the unofficial duty of birds to greet the coming of a new day and acting as an impulse to people to get moving with the increasing daylight. And for many centuries, since humans began raising hens for eggs and food, that has been one of the functions of the male, the rooster proclaiming his territory. So it remains in much of the world.

The last couple of mornings I have woken with the birds. No, not the crowing roosters; those aren’t allowed in the city – they might disturb some people. However, nature provides her own birds. Most mornings it is robins, often sparrows, occasionally cardinals.

This morning was a combination of all three. Before four o’clock, hours before the sun was scheduled to rise and without even a hint of daylight touching the eastern skies, one robin placed himself (yes, it’s always the male) on the utility wires leading  into my house just below my bedroom window and began to shout his half-dozen-or-so note song. More than loud enough to wake me. Loud enough to disturb several males in neighbouring territories who felt compelled to answer. I didn’t have the heart to complain or shush them. Birds being birds, as they should. I was grateful enough that, after a trip to the bathroom, I could go to sleep again.

When I did get up a little later, dawn was breaking. The robin at my bedroom window had seemingly moved on. When I got downstairs and began making coffee, a different wake up call came through the kitchen window.  My neighbour has a locust tree in a corner of his yard, and this morning a bright red (male, of course) cardinal had claimed a perch there and was whistling his song to the sun, his challengers,  me, and all the rest of the world.

I don’t know whether or not to feel blessed by this multitude of bird calls urging me on and motivating me this morning. Perhaps I should wait for the morning visit by a flock of chittering sparrows.

Ah, well. They may banish roosters from city back yards but they can’t stop birds from singing: Good morning, may your day be bright and cheerful!

Summer Fruit

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It’s been a hot couple of days and I was out and about on my bicycle today; a special purpose – to take in the musical presentation (the regular Wednesday noon hour summer concert) at Whitehern. Today’s featured musician, Doug Feaver.

Satisfied by the good music and the good friends there to share it with. I returned home. All I really wanted was a long, cold drink and I knew I had more than a litre of peach drink in the fridge waiting for me. All went according to plan – and then some!

You see, I had forgotten what else I had put in the fridge. A couple of days ago I had bought some plums. The first one I tackled was hard, not yet sweet and juicy the way I like my fruit. Therefore, I had wrapped the two remaining in a paper bag – the one my pharmacist uses to present me with my medications seems to work fine; besides, then I can believe the fruit is there specifically for my health – and stored them in a kitchen cupboard. After several days, I figured they were about ready to eat and moved them, paper bag and all, to the refrigerator and promptly forgot them.

When I took out the container of cold drink I found them again. So, along with my liquid refreshment, I decided to eat those plums before the became too soft. Ooooooh, la-la and di-da!

They were at a point I could not imagine. I sank in my teeth and they cut to the stone – not an easy task for these store bought devises! The flesh of the fruit was dark crimson all through, firm yet soft. And juicy? I thought about grabbing a paper towel, then a dishtowel, then said the heck with it!

I wore the stained shirt into the shower. The sweet sticky juice washed off most of my face and upper body, but I’m not certain of the shirt!

The experience was worth it! Ah, summer  fruit. Bring it on!