We have hurtled through the second month of 2015 without a blink. Tomorrow is 1 March and heralds the dying days of summer, with the equinox of 20 March being the official start of autumn. Already the sun is only rising at 6.35 and it's not such fun to get up at 5.45 to take the dogs outside. Susie, being blind, cannot negotiate the stairs any more, so guess who has the job of taking her out into the garden come rain or shine! This morning was a particularly beautiful one, with not a soul stirring except the rooster, warm air unstirred by a breeze and the pink and purple glow above the mountain as the sun began to peek over the far, unseen horizon.
I stood barefoot on the warm bricks, taking deep breaths of the clean, unpolluted air - the most precious commodity of this planet (as they say, try holding your breath while you count your money!) and reflected on how we usually miss the best part of every day, the dawn. This is when the birds start their early morning chorus - not quite the dawn chorus of the English countryside, but a lone robin trills in the shrubbery and the ever-cheerful sunbird (a survivor if ever there was one) chatters outside my window). I opened the blinds and startled a bou-bou shrike sitting on top of the bougainvillea - we were practically eyeball to eyeball. This large and attractive bird is not at all frightened of us and often hops happily nearby, calling its mate which is never too far away in their practised duet.
Soon the southeaster will pick up and the stillness of the morning will be gone as people get up and go about their business. But I've seen the best of the day already, and I'm glad I didn't miss it.
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