What an amazing morning

Up at 5:00 to toss my junk in a bag to catch the 6 o'clock bus to NYC and Nikki. FIrst mate'
then one of those incredible songs I would have never heard of except that I turned NPR on at 5:30 on a Saturday when they think no one is alive and listening.

1909 Rebecca Clarke, Lullabye for viola

Then as I'm tromping through Hanover I hear this murder of crowing crows in the tree tops on both sides of the street, and suddenly understand why there's always birdshit all over the sidewalks when there aren't any pigeons this far north. So i cawed back at them for fun, and they all dispersed, from tree A to B and B to A, and luckily I didn't receive any warms wet replies to my face while I watched those crows with my neck craned. It looked just like this, and this, pasted together. 2 from right before Vince died in 1890. all 3 with that filthy azure of the thawing sky at dawn.