A morning after a restless night. Coffee far too late, perhaps. My ears attuned to the night, hearing so very much, sleep came with difficulty to late to be useful. Once I woke, the morning calmness and quietude spoke to me.
Pre-dawn tones, birds and insects chatter, apart yet together. Robins, crickets, then crows: acoustic motion across my consciousness.
Saturday morning, just a few more days left of June. Many types of chronological motion, too, greying my hair. Speaking to me of near ancient memories. Ancient, at least, in terms of humanity, of human life-spans.