I’m outside watching the sunrise as I write to you.
It’s a hazy, breezy morning.  the kind where low gray wisps of clouds move rapidly past the sky while the sun still refuses to show more than a glow of its presence.
The birds know.  They are making their journey to their respective feeding grounds, the pond ripples with the prevailing southeast wind which is bringing moisture with it, making the air feel heavier than it might otherwise despite a nice coolness.
In the few moments of telling you of this, the sky is changing color, from gray to a burnt orange as the sun asserts itself and the underglow of the drifting clouds reflect its intensity no matter how they try to resist.
A flock of fast moving small birds whiz by in a formation which changes as it passes, they are moving at high velocity for just the thrill of it I suppose, because of what could they be late?  The day is just beginning.
And now, in just these few moments, the sky is bluing and the clouds are changing to pink, the marsh hens are twittering away a distant woodpecker is pecking and the sun is alighting the trees and the ripples on the pond.
Good morning!