Where is home?

Early morning.

The rain splats in heavy, occasional drops on tree leaves. Not rain really, I suppose, just damp air from the fog, condensing into drops, drip drip dripping down.

I'm awake. The Painter came in around 5:00 to ask me to start the music over. I tucked him back into bed, and started his Laurie Berkner cd "Buzz Buzz" once again from the beginning. (He insists on it at bedtime, every night. It's alright. It's a phase. It will pass.)

So, I'm awake. I come to the family room. Open the sliding door. And listen.

The birds, many birds: cheedirp cheedirp twak twak chee dup chee twee twee twee twee chirp chirp chirp

They have a home. A morning. A day. A drum circle of song. A chorus of daybreak. Qua qua qua qua qua qua. Some large bird. Bechee bechee bechee bechee they all continue.

Where is home? I'm lost.