I awaken most summer mornings at a time I once thought unthinkable.
My first conscious thought is: eastern phoebe. Or: chipping sparrow. Either one has fully mastered the sound of an alarm clock. Loud and shrill. Occasionally, a robin beats them to it. On those mornings, I smile. It’s a gentler start to the day.
Light sneaks through the skylights at 5:30 …