Second Helpings

Do You Hear What I Hear?

I'm not by nature a morning person. I often wish I was a lark instead of an owl; there's something special about being first to greet a new day, but very, very rarely do I manage to achieve that.

I had to move to the spare room last night due to brass band concertos of ear-splitting proportions, but at least that allows me to open bedroom windows, something hubby and I have differing views about, but of course he always wins.

Just lately I tend to agree with him as the irritating, repetitive noises of a building site start up early every morning, causing sleep deprivation and a painful reminder the once pretty countryside surrounding us will soon be a massive housing estate.

But this morning, there were no machine reverberations and I woke early to the sound of a wood pigeon cooing. Immediately my mind travelled to the many lovely places and times I associate with that particular sound and a rare feeling of calm and contentment washed over me.

Within minutes my ears acknowledged the noise of yet more torrential rain lashing against the windows and an ambulance siren in the distance drowned out the wood pigeon. Ambulances turn my thought to my parents; every time I see or hear one I'm convinced one of them is in it.

The sound of son's mobile phone wake up call followed, quiet chatter between himself and Mey Ling ensued, reminding me yet again of the unique and worrying situation they have placed us in. Sleep would not return.

I heard Paul go off to work, the rain continued relentlessly, but above it all the wood pigeon was joined by many other species of birds celebrating a new day with their varied songs. I realised I was lucky to wake up to a new day; one I get to spend with my beloved sister. I concluded if the birds can rise and celebrate in the pouring rain, then so can I. And I'm blessed to have my hearing in tact to absorb all the sounds, no matter what thoughts they trigger.

So, for once I had the house to myself for a couple of hours and have enjoyed the time spent here in Blogville. Hubby got up a bit ago - nose blowing, pot clanging, taps running shattered my peace but assured me life as I know it goes on. Mey Ling has just loaded the washer and had another debate about plants in the garden with Mr Bean, yet strangely all this is becoming familiar and the norm. I guess we humans are given the abilty to adjust for a reason.

Time to get ready now. Search the wardrobe for the philosophical head I need to wear, the que sera suit and let it be matching accessories. When things look bad it's sometimes the simple things like birdsong which remind us life will go on, within us and without us and we have the choice of making the best of whatever it throws at us. Today I feel able to do that; tomorrow who knows?

I'm even quite looking forward to cleaning the bog. MY GOOOOD Scarlett IS in a good mood today. Maybe she's a lark in owl's clothing after all.