Dawn Chorus

Morning has broken like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken like the first bird

Praise for the singing

Praise for the morning

Praise for them springing fresh from the Word

Cat Stevens

I’m reading a fascinating book called The Bird Way by Jennifer Ackerman. It’s a new look at how birds talk, work, play, parent and think. I’ve long suspected these dynamic, diverse creatures to be more complex than we give them credit for, and that the slam “bird brain” may actually be a compliment.

What motivated me to buy the book and learn more about the behaviors of birds is when I spotted one playing. That is the only word to describe it. I was on a get away to Lake Tahoe, one of my favorite spots on Earth and my husband and I were poolside with our non-alcoholic beers, watching our daughter swim and frolic around in the water.

This pool was an indoor-outdoor pool and we noticed some birds had build a nest in the arch that connected the indoors to outside. One bird was flying back and forth and I finally focused in on what it was doing. It had a small white downy feather and, upon takeoff, would toss the feather into the sky and then make an arcing circle and catch it again on it’s way back. Hand to God, it was playing a game of fetch. And to watch its energetic flight pattern and accurate grabs, this bird was really enjoying it.

My husband and I were fascinated, and kept looking around to see if anyone else was absorbed in this impressive game of catch the feather, but alas, no one seemed to notice.

That happens a lot these days, no one seeming to notice. People absorbed in their lives and thoughts and screens so much that they forget to look up.

The first section of the book is on how birds “talk” or communicate vocally. It describes the phenomenon of the Dawn Chorus. A communal singing that takes place as the first light of morning begins to fancy the idea of making an appearance. And faithfully as the sun rises, these little feathered musicians herald the arrival of a new day.

Like so many things, scientists don’t know exactly why birds sing a dawn chorus. I like these open spaces in scientific theory; room for possibilities. Ackerman writes:

Why birds sing so intensely before dawn is not well understood. It may have something to do with the advantages of acoustic transmission in those dark early hours. Cooler temperatures, calmer air, less ambient noise from insects (and traffic), allow a bird’s song to travel farther, the better to stake its territory…or to broadcast its presence to prospective mates. Or maybe it’s that predators are less of a threat. Or maybe the birds are up anyway, and the low light makes foraging difficult, the still air not suitable for migrating, and insects not yet out and about. So why not sing? Maybe the birds are practicing, warming up for the day. Or maybe it’s just their way of announcing, “I survived the night.”

I absolutely love that. Sing because it’s quiet. Sing because you feel safe. Sing because you have a song within you that needs to come out. Sing because it’s what you do. Sing to prepare for the day. Sing because you survived the night.

Since I stopped drinking, I’ve grown to love morning quiet time. Since I now feel refreshed after sleep, and I’m up anyway, I am intentional about how I start the day. If I’m lazy and don’t get out of bed until the last minute, I feel it the rest of the day.

Dawn is when I sing my song: I read, pray and write. I don’t literally sing, because that would be worse than any alarm set for the rest of the household, but I warm up for the day by practicing gratitude and affirming my faith. Faith in God and faith in the day set before me. Gratitude for this day, and gratitude that I survived the night.