Morning Inspiration Is For The Birds

I looked out my bedroom window this morning and saw wet, heavy snowflakes falling to greet their friends that already coated the grass, road, and sidewalk below me with a thin layer of white wetness. The wind shook the branches of the barren trees just outside my window, which I opened for a second to feel the frigid air taunting my hopes for an early spring.

Cleveland Winter

Photo from of Erik Daniel Drost on Flickr.

This is just Cleveland in March, and so the story will always go.

A touch despondent over the weather, I walked to my kitchen and began to heat water for my morning coffee. As I scooped the coarse grounds of a Guatemalan blend into my French Press, I heard a sweet sound that had been missing for many months coming from outside the first floor windows: Birds chirping.

I opened the front door and searched for these magical harbingers of better weather but found them nowhere. Their sounds, though, continued to play like a high-pitched symphony to my winter-weary ears. I inhaled the frozen morning, basking in the trump card I held over Mother Nature.

When I exhaled, I smiled. The music of the birds told me that spring and better weather were close. And that’s enough to make my day.

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