Receding fog on the cove
We woke to deep fog.
Air so thick with moisture, water droplets formed on everything. We were drenched just taking our early morning walk with Theo.
As the clouds began to lift and the morning began to brighten, the brilliantly clear and LOUD song of a wren pierced the misty air.
As more of the fog receded and the sky became brighter, the louder her song. She was very proud of her effort and continued in full throated triumph until the sun had broken through and the skies revealed the beautiful sapphire blue of late winters day.
small brown wren
in glorious song
singing as if she alone is responsible
for the rising of the sun
thecourseofourseasons 
The wren can be allowed to feel that way! Sweet chirpings are always welcomed!
Hank
I do love to hear that song! Thanks, Hank!
beautiful! 🙂 the past few mornings, I’ve been treated to the robin who decides that 5 AM is time to get up, sun or no…
Love your haibun.. the wren so proud and sweet…:-)
I love wrens. A friend/lover of mind from long ago always called me Misosazai – Japanese for wren because he said I was small, bossy, and thought the day had started because I woke it up. 🙂
I think that’s exactly what the wren is doing, whether she realizes it or not. Thanks for pointing that out (one of the many things I admire about your poetry).
Nancy