The day begins with the cool 'football weather' temps. The morning birds, drawn to break their fast with sunflower seeds and gather in the dappled willows, I can hear as they join in the song of all Creation. The hummer wth the red neck-tie even squeaks and tweets in between tiny sips of sugar water.
I hear the faint rumble of the trucks on the pavement far away
They're going to their destination, they won't bother me to-day
In His mercy, God has allowed me another day in paradise, another morning filled with quiet song before the duties of the day become the focus.
Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word
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