Early Morning Symphony

I rarely use my ipod when set off on an early morning walk. Instead, I listen to a different kind of music all around me.

Birds trill a morning greeting.
Cows call to their calves.
Dogs wake up their masters.
The coyotes answer back.

A tractor's drone lends a steady bass rhythm.

My tennis shoes crunch gravel with the cadence of a brush on a snare drum.

The Amtrak train rumbles through Zenith, 4 1/2 miles away, the hum of the train tracks punctuated by the whistle at dirt-road intersections.

Water sloshes in my right-hand. 

Squirrels clamor for cover and make the leaves sing as I near the old cottonwood tree at our driveway.

Turkeys scramble away from feasting on the yard's grubs and dart through underbrush, softly talking to one another in their hurry to get away from this human interloper.

Soon the migrating geese will add their own music to the mix.

I love music, and it often plays a soundtrack in my mind. But this is a symphony all its own.