Every day this week, I’ve woken up to birdsong, which is a particularly delightful way to pass from dreams to reality. I’ve been working on the garden—planting, pruning, weeding, trying to make a pretty space. Birds singing out there make me feel like they approve and they’re calling me to the adventure of creating ‘our’ space together. It’s a party out there, and I’m both the host and an invited guest.
Those singing birds make me feel so hopeful.
‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –By Emily Dickinson
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all …