You Make My Heart Sing
It’s the first sound I hear in the morning, before the coffee maker clicks on and steam spatters against the hot burner, before a squirrel patters across the roof: the sharp, high, clear-whistled voice of an American robin, perched somewhere outside my window, just before sunrise. He’s there every day, his sweet song rising with the first light, his lilt nudging me awake, his bright, fluty notes lifting my heart. By the time I’m outside for my morning walk, the sky has lightened, and the robins have been joined by wrens, Carolina chickadees, and white-throated sparrows, these tiny birds trilling with their whole hearts and filling the morning with a symphony of sound, a full choral concert. Nature’s ode to joy. I’ve heard these songs all my life, familiar notes that never…
