Air hangs wet and limpid and seems to just be ready to jump up and begin. My hair feels damp and starts to curl around my ear listening to the birds dare each other to wake up. Crunchy gravel and large rocks make my ankle turn. A robin calls and turns her head to look at me one eyed from her fence post. She watches me walk up the path around the towers as though she will write it all down, put it into my permanent record. She chirps at me and someone calls to her and another and another answers. The wind kicks up around my feet swirling up to my head making my ponytail flip. I see the sun trying to assemble itself but the gray and overcast beginning is oppressive. I would like to stay with the birds as the day discovers itself.