Dear Zoe,

I found this letter that your mother sent to me many years ago, I thought that you would like to read it.

Love,

Uncle Roy
*****
Hi Roy,

Most mornings you can find me standing outside at 6 am. A small benefit of my early-to-rise schedule is that I am introduced, over a year’s span, to an ever-changing, an ever so gradually changing scene. I probably see more sunrises than most people, I probably hear more bird songs than most people, and, I am probably aware of the sound of surf pounding on miles of beach than most people. Now, as we approach the shortest day of the year, my special treat is in enjoying a night sky in the morning, when my mind is freshest and most absorbent.

But, I pay for this extra helping of night with the loss of the babel-like conversation of tens of varieties of bird (even though many of the languages are spoken by a single mockingbird!) songs that swirl around me during daylight mornings. Now, most birds are tucked deeply into protective bushes or shivering under loosely sheltering pine boughs.

I was taken, the other morning while standing in the cold dark, by the fact that I heard nothing. Absolutely Nothing!

The ocean was quiet from 5 miles away, traffic sounds couldn’t be heard from 2 miles away. No birds, no wind through the trees only a hundred feet away, nothing.

So, I listened for things that I have never heard, and there they were: mice yawning, stars sizzling and the moon whispering a lover’s song. It was the rare chance that I’m glad I didn’t waste. Only the last chance calls of an owl broke the spell. Morning had come.

Love,

Sis