I love the early morning sky as I listen to the bird songs and watch the colors of the day emerge from the rosy/fiery sunrise into the clear blueness of the day. But last night at 2:45am, albeit technically morning, the sky was dark and obscured by clouds. I was up with my dog and as I walked out onto the deck fully expecting the deep silence of the night I heard a lone Catbird singing his mashed up song in the oak tree of my neighbor’s yard.  It did not seem to matter to him that the sun was still sleeping or that his voice was the only voice carrying into the darkness. The name Catbird must cause some crisis of identity.  To live labeled with your arch nemesis name attached to yours seems somehow unkind -CATbird. Even his song is not his own, it is a combination of mimicked sounds he has found appealing, snippets of random songs of other birds; he is the DJ of the bird world.  None of this deters him, still he sings into the night.

I trundle back to bed hoping the Sandman will be kind to me for at least a few more hours.  When I reawaken I hear the song of the Catbird once more.  The day has come and he continues to do what he does best, sing.  His cares are not of the human kind even though he lives among us.  His world is of the boundless sky, the trees and the song.  I envy him for he does not worry his day away, he does not wander recklessly into the future of “what ifs”, he stays in this moment and he sings.  His song brings me joy and hope and I am ever grateful for it.