At last the rain stopped, and the fog set down on the tallest trees. Their shoulders were slung low from the weight of it all, and the morning street lamps were on their last shift. But the birds sang as if for the first time, and I wished I could start each day the same way, and sing.
Bill Pearse 
You can Bill! Just open up those lungs and let forth… although theoretically, your words are like little songs for us reading them. 🙂
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Tweet tweet, croak. Ribbit. 😀
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sing away –
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Thanks Beth! You too.
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I purposely listened to that piece as I read your piece, and the two are perfect together. Nice!
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That’s so funny! You get a golden chocolate for that Kevin. Crack me up…I heard that on the drive in to work yesterday and had to use the title. 😀 have a great day, thanks for reading. Bill
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Wouldn’t it be nice if each day began with the words of little thoughts warbling away, cheerful as the waking birds?
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Yes, that’s my hope and intention! And yet pretty quiet despite ☹️
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This is really lovely Bill. 🌻
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