The crow is the first and the loudest of many birds to perch on top of the tallest tree in the morning.
This if preceded ten minutes by the Sun's early arch rising above the treeline.
Which comes after dozens of pairs of legs cross my view of the sidewalk between the brim on my baseball cap and paperback.
Which was given birth by a bloody sinus and the thought of the necessity of raking leaves.
Now I will rake leaves.