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Starting The Day With Song

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I open the black guitar case I've carried so many places for almost 30 years. I remove the shining Gibson and sound the strings into morning sunshine, into the breeze blowing in windows.

The cat stretches out in sunshine, looks at me with green eyes, and begins to forgive me for not welcoming her onto my lap, where the guitar goes.

I sing some of my own songs over the sound of guitar strings, some old favorites by other people. I whistle tunes knit into guitar sounds and achieve mellifluous blending of voice, guitar, and whistle.

My daughter hums along on some of our favorite songs, even as she reads in sun shining in through glass doors.

Fifteen songs later, I've found a peaceful approach to this day. I put the guitar away.

We scatter, the cat out onto the deck, my daughter toward the garden, seeds in hand, a happily hummed tune drifting above her in sunshine, me out of the house and into the day's necessary work, still whistling and singing, sending a joyous noise into the day.

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