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Photo - All About Birds |
Earlier, as a not so permafrost melted Hanover into mush, I
laid in bed contemplating the day. A week long deep freeze, and a night of sleepless
"Reserve A," had robbed me of the energy to stand upright. Within my
head, dreams and reality wrestled for the win.
Times like these are common. Sleep is my friend. Coming
through for reality was a list of things to do. Dreams’ strong rebuttal was a
final scene I wished to experience. It was the perfect balance of ambition and
sloth. Then, there was a sound.
Outside the window, low in the maple, was something unheard
in a week. Until then it had not occurred to me, the world had been silent. Everything
was hiding; trying to survive; fighting its own reality, or dreams.
A single
robin was the first to announce results.
Singing louder than before, the redbreast derided my
laziness. Was it avian attitude, personal guilt, or nothing but perception of
volume after an extended and unrecognized silence? It is impossible to know. Whatever
the case, nature’s reveille telegraphed sharply through the glass.
The first report of winter’s death, received. The battle for
spring, nearly won.
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