Wednesday, May 25, 2011
The 5:00 a.m. Bird
I didn't sleep last night, don't know why. Ordinarily I am a good sleeper. I lay there for several hours, tossing and turning, trying to understand what was going on. I didn't drink too much caffeine, nor did I drink alcohol yesterday; both of those can cause sleep disruptions. I had plenty of exercise, I wasn't worried about anything in particular. Who knows what was going on?
At 5:00 a.m. the bird came to my window to sing her pre-dawn song. I hear this bird often from a place that's just one level down from awake. Even though ordinarily I'm still sleeping at 5:00, her song registers in my memory because it is very complex. There are chirps, tweets, whistles and a sort of high pitched honking that sounds like punctuation or gentle cursing. Even her singing rhythms are complicated. I never hear this bird except just before the sun rises, hence I call her The 5:00 a.m. Bird.
Because I was wide awake today, I got up, brewed a cup of coffee in the dark kitchen, sat down at the table and listened carefully to her song. She's LOUD - and even more of a virtuoso than I realized. This bird isn't just singing for the hell of it, she is part of a symphony of pre-dawn chirping that takes place up and down E. Capitol Street. Her song sounded somewhat like a call and response with the other birds. It was beautiful to listen to.
Why she always comes to my window to greet the day is a mystery. I appreciate her willingness to include me in the morning music, even though I'm too sound asleep to rouse myself most of the time.
Bird language is not a specialty of mine; some shamans know exactly what those birds are talking about. For me it's like listening to someone singing in Italian or something. I can almost understand parts of it. This morning I opened my ears and mind, I tried so hard to understand.
Because I'm almost never up that early, the experience was very fun, and, too, sitting there listening to the 5:00 a.m. Bird, sipping coffee, watching the sky grow steadily brighter, qualifies as another example of how all my rhythms are wonky at this moment in time.
Since I couldn't fully understand, I made a conscious decision to believe the 5:00 a.m. Bird was telling me that all the foggy, blurry, spiraling shapes and energies I can sense but can not quite perceive may soon come into focus. I hope so. A couple of trippy days is fun, but after awhile it's difficult to remain patient and open. Also: I need my sleep.