Saturday morning. It is 7:00 am and the the kettle on the stove is working up a steam for my morning tea. Outside the window there is darkness. Not a hint of dawn yet. Soon.

I shovel a bowl of cereal in me and head out the door. Where better to greet the rising sun than the bird sanctuary, a five minute drive from my place?

Except for two other men with obscenely large lensed cameras on tripods I have the place to myself. The air is crisp, hovering right at the freezing point, and I walk fast to ward off the chill.

The birds provide a cacophonous backdrop to my untrained ear. I slow my  pace when I hit the gravel paths, not wanting to startle deer if I should happen upon one. Rodent-like creatures I mistake for young beaver swim in the shallow ponds. They crawl gingerly across a thin crust of ice leftover from the night.

A coyote, too quick for my camera, plunges into the thick brush and trots off. In the past, walking with my wife and son, we were fortunate enough to encounter a porcupine. It did not seem too bothered by our presence. I vainly scan the brush for one today.

A tiny bird, with spots of grey and black and hardly bigger than my thumb follows me along the path alighting on branches when I stop. It contorts its little head in order to study me better. But sadly, when I point the camera it grows shy and flits off.

Taking in great gulps of air I marvel and give thanks for the wondrous beauty of the morn. What a privilege to have shared these moments with the birds, the ducks and geese along the river’s edge, and all critters large and small who pass through or make this modest oasis away from the press and the rush of the city their home.

Time for a coffee.

Have a joyous day,filled with wonder and adventure.