The Dawn Chorus

Saturday, 5 a.m.  No alarm set, no work to hurry to, no rush-hour commute to battle.  So why in God’s name am I awake??!!

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There have been countless Saturdays, Sundays, holidays like this.  My brain insists that I need to wake up at 5 a.m. regardless of whether or not I really do.  I will try to fall back asleep but I am never successful.  Instead what happens is that I lay in bed, gazing as the outlines of trees become visible through the sheer and lace curtains.

Eventually I can’t stay in bed anymore.  My body wants to move and I start getting uncomfortable no matter what position I try to arrange myself in.  So I get up.

I’m still tired, mind you, but there is something about being the only person awake and watching as the sky begins to lighten and the birds start up their chorus of songs.  It’s like my own private show.  Of course, the biologist in me gets a little kick out of realizing that all these beautiful songs are really just a bunch of fighting words between competing males and sloppy-drunks trying to hit on chicks (pun intended) at the bar.

I envision that what these birds are really saying are things like “Yo, babe, those feathers sure look pretty on you in this light.  Wanna go to my nest and check out my twigs?”.  Or maybe two males are really saying “Yo, bruh, I saw her first.  Like, dude, do you even fly?”  Stuff like that.  Yes, these are the things that go on in my brain.

Soon, I will hear the youngest running out of his room and jumping into my bed where the Old Man is still sleeping.  I’ll go back in bed so that I can tickle the little one until he is squirmy and wild, and then deny that it was me.  Then it’s time to kick everyone out of bed and load up on caffeine to get me through the rest of the day.