The dawn is a gift full of promise like an unwrapped parcel
waiting tantalisingly to be undone. No matter where you are it is the start, of
a new day, which unravels slowly. At times it is serene and peaceful and
sometimes it is noisy.
The sunrise from the balcony as I stood looking over to the
St Clair beach signalled with its beauty a very bad day but at that moment in
the dawn it was breath-taking. The sun was lambent on scattered roof tops.
There was a solitude at this time that felt comforting and yet an unspoken
yearning came unexpectedly.
A bird sound called on the soft summer air and soon another,
different, calling intermittently to one another, randomly, greeting each
other. First a high soprano followed by a lower contralto then a tenor, rich
and full bodied, ensued.
A small chorus with no melody line and no conductor, random,
but beautiful in its clarity and sound. No matter how the day unwrapped it had the most peaceful and
beautiful start.
But a noisy cacophonous start to the day can be a grateful
beginning. It can be the most welcome sound.
After an interminable night of silence desperately trying to
sleep with wrinkled sheets, a hard mattress and hard pillow, the darkness
stretching out for an eternity the morning’s arrival would have been so
welcome. I continually looked at my watch but the hour hand moved so slowly. I
stretched out a leg. I plumped up my pillows. I curled back my leg. It was so
uncomfortable. The air was hot and stuffy. No breath of fresh air here .It was
stifling Sleep was unattainable Counting sheep did not help. Another drink of
water perhaps. Oh please morning, Hurry up!
Soft darkness. Silence!!! Soft
tread, sleuth like but still no morning. Desperation was my companion.
Dawn please!!! Then I heard it. Trolleys clanging, voices
chattering, footsteps scurrying along busy and purposeful. Lights were on and
buzzers sounded. Morning had arrived.
The hospital dawn chorus had started.
What a relief!!
Fay Ward
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