For the past few weeks I've been enjoying the early morning sounds of spring taking momentum. At first there was only one lone, slightly quavery bird voice. Being the type to anthropomorphize, that lone bird became 'Trev'. Trev then acquired a breathy sounding soprano accompaniment - I named her Lola. Then they told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on and so on... until I had my own bird choir out there, belting their little lungs out at 4:30 in the morning. Really, who needs Beyonce?
I admire them.
While I tend to wait to sing - whether it be in praise of others or life or because I'm happy - the furred and feathered in my world have no such waiting period. Trev and Lola sing each morning, rain or shine. The Yowler and Her Highness are dependent on me and thus a little more demanding, but they don't hold back the purr just because I'm a little slow getting their stinky goodness in the mornings, or have to run errands after work and get home later than expected. I might get a few pointed yowls, at most, but it's always followed up by feline expressions of love.
So as I lay in bed this morning, trying to de-befuddle the sleep from my brain while registering his Yowliness's insistent head-bonking, a line from my favourite Indiana Jones movie came to mind, as spoken by Sean Connery:
"I suddenly remembered my Charlemagne -- "Let my armies be the rocks and the trees... and the birds in the sky"My army of the fur and feather is more of a peace-keeping force, and I think it's time to take a page from their book.