I've been rising before the sun for a few weeks now, without an alarm to get my day going.

A friend suggested I may be hearing better, because I commented how many more birds were singing this year.  I  think my favourite is the one whose call sounds like, "Please, please, pleased to meet you!".  A white throated warbler?  Barry knows.

And it isn't just one species that's speaking.  Robins, vireos, sparrows and chickadees are all catching up on their news before some of them head south for the winter.  The blue jays and Canada jays are already farther north where it's cooler theoretically.

After years of listening to the male hummingbirds dive bomb each other at the feeder, I'm convinced this is the source of the lightsabre's sound effect George Lucas used in Star Wars.

I read somewhere that once you let the sound of birds into your world, you can never close the door again on a sensitivity to Nature.  After moving from Toronto and participating in three Audubon Bird Counts in Banff National Park in dark Decembers circa 1985-88, I've changed from a Bloor Street denizen to a bird world doyenne.

 Turkeys ( wild and vultures); ravens and crows; vees of geese flying overhead in formation coming and going twice a year; blue herons and kingfishers coming to our pond, interested in our koi; and  Whisky Jacks (or gray jays) will land in our hand and take bread offerings daily throughout the winter.

 When our guests have tried it for the first time, the feeling of the teeny talons gripping their palm is exhiliarating.  If you hold on to the bread, they'll wrestle with you until you let go.  It's a sweet defeat!

Wayne has opened the door and I've stepped through

into a whole new world of self expression.

stay tuned!