Tick, Tock, Yawn, Whoosh

I've become my mother.

My favorite time of day is the early, early morning. In fact, when I nestle into bed each night, I can hardly contain my eagerness as I look ahead to the wee hours of the morning. I know. Weird. But that's how much I look forward to those sweet, solitary, quiet, early morning hours.

We sleep with the windows open and the shades up just a bit. Being so close to the ocean makes for comfortable nights. I crave cool, fresh air when I'm sleeping. And there is no ambient light here at all. And absolutely no. noise. at. night. No traffic. No peeper toads (note to self: do some research to learn why there are no peeper toads here). Sweet silence. The only downside of the open window/open shade routine is that the birds start singing here at about 4 AM. Yes, I love early morning, but I also REALLY love that last hour-and-a-half of sleep.

So, how early IS early? Well, I usually wake up long before Al --- between 5:30 and 5:45 AM. I have given up trying to sneak out of the bedroom quietly because there is simply NO way to be quiet while I rip apart the six BIG Velcro straps on my night splints. Luckily, Al is able to fall back asleep almost immediately as I pad down the hallway pulling my cotton robe tightly around me.

Sitting in my favorite chair -- the glider rocker -- in the living room gives me a perfect view of two bird feeders. One is a long tube feeder filled with sunflower seeds and millet. The bright yellow goldfinches, nuthatches, and chickadees here in Maine aren't nearly as picky as the ones we had in New Hampshire; they'll eat the millet without a fuss and often comically queue up to await their turn. The hummingbird feeder, visible through another window, is my favorite to watch. In the early morning hours, before the sun hits the feeder, it's easy to nearly miss the rapid-fire beating of the wings against the dark trees. Ooh! Is that a hummingbird? As it whizzes off to perch in a nearby sun-filled tree, it stands in stark relief. Sighting confirmed.

It was my second or third year here before I was able to spot a hummingbird perched in the large pine trees around our house. Dang. They're small and they land quite high in the trees. It's still early in the summer, and I'm out of practice; so far this year, I still need to follow the bird's flight from the feeder to the tree to be able to spot it there. I'm getting better at it though. The Fourth of July has just passed and I can already follow the exquisite little bird into the tree, close my eyes for a few seconds, and then open my eyes and find it right away!

Just yesterday, I got a special treat. Just last week I planted up my two window boxes with cascading deep purple petunias, dark magenta nicotiana, and yellow-orange ganzania. They've grown so quickly in the near-to-the-ocean air that the blooms are already visible from my glider chair indoors. Yesterday morning I suddenly noticed a hummingbird busily visiting each of the nicotiana blossoms in one of my windowboxes. Then it whooshed off into the tree as if it were waving good morning to me!

Time to make the coffee. . .