The wave of yesterday’s Indonesian-style heat and humidity here in upstate NY was broken by an evening thunderstorm. We immediately opened all the windows to benefit from the cool breezes. While it made for good sleeping, the acoustic breach in our home also provided Elihu a direct line to the early morning birdsong outside his window, a sound which reached deep into his healthful rest to awaken him. Early. Very early. Five-thirty, to be exact. I looked up from my bed to see him standing there, smiling. “Do you hear them?” he asked, brimming with the thrill of a true birder. How could I not? I’d had an earplug stuffed into my upwards-facing ear. I too smiled. How could I not? It’s been Elihu’s constant dream to be up this early in order to hear the birds as they can only be heard at this hour, however on school mornings I refuse to wake him before 7:30 as he’s usually late to retire. I don’t want him fighting the nodding head thing in the middle of his day (that can wait til High School).  I also make no effort to wake him super-early on the weekends, as I don’t want to mess with his schedule too much. As I think of it it’s probably not he who needs the sleep, but me. Probably. Ok. We’re up. There are too many critters singing the delights of the pre-dawn hours to argue with. Where’s my robe…

It’s now approaching noon, and I’m wondering how that little birder of mine is doing. I am tired. I have much to do and cannot afford a mid-day lie-down. I will pour more coffee and muscle through, but what of Elihu? I pray he’s faring better than I am right now. Outside it’s back to jungle-like readings again, and inside the house is warming up. His recess will likely be inside, as we’d received a recorded message last night from his principal advising the kids drink lots of water and prepare for indoor activities at school today.

Maybe mommy needs to get to bed a little earlier tonite…

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