colector: [JournalWriting] Re:Share an Entry Sunday, 3/9/2008, 12:00 am

The birdsong I woke up to so so beautiful. Dawn opened the day, scotch tape torn away to reveal "Sunday, A completely commitment free day, once church is over." Church, with me and no one else today. Freedom. Sunday School. I excited and glad. Almost forgot the D.

Listen, walk outside, what do you hear?

Birds - so much silence in the early morning allows me to hear them clearly. Without competing sounds, I hear each bird, one by one, and am able to notice each one more. I heard new birds (travelers?) warbles I don't recognize. I give myself the space to laugh, to smile. I feel the birds and I share a secret non of my neighbors know since they are all sleeping.

I let myself feel smug. Allow that to settle into my shoulders.

I write in the grey of the early morning, allowing the grey light of almost sunrise to barely illuminate the page. It is sacred somehow, like a dusty, stain-glass shrouded marble sanctuary, this morning moment at my kitchen table, facing East.

A proud bird is singing, so chesty. Belting. A bird diva. I don't know its name but I know its art.

My art will never match hers. And its ok. its how it was meant to be. Just right.

I hear Katherine choosing to join the world, yay her.

My Mirado Warriors are lined up. I cahnge when one point gets dull. I love their scratching on the page, the slight-ever-so-subtle-just-there-resistance.

It feels good. Very good.

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