By Elizabeth Prata
Every morning at 6:58, the first bird welcomes the day. CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP, I hear. At this current season in my little spot on earth, first light is 6:51 am, and sunrise is 7:18 am. During this week of quietude home from school on Thanksgiving Break, me and that bird have made friends. He doesn’t know it of course, but I do.
I sit at my table, sipping coffee and reading or writing. I look at the clock and wait for his first chirp. It’s a Carolina wren, and boy, that tiny body emits a sound that carries far and wide.
Usually on the dot (or thereabouts) I hear the wren. I smile, the day has officially begun when the tiny bird sings. It’s good to be connected to the outside world. The creation is amazing in its turnings and doings, and I’m pleased to know the wren is the one who greets the day first. He is the only one singing up the sun, the crow, the cardinal, the robin wait a bit before chiming in.
How does Wren know to do it every day, at the same time? A mystery of God. His creation is intricate and wondrous. All creation might be groaning together till now (Romans 8:22), but it’s singing, too.
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