Summary: The serenades around where I live begin early. Today it was during the full moon at 3 a.m., in a break from the blessed rain. The chorus is mostly of robins, but one voice sticks out as new; a call I do not know; a love letter to the curiosity of who could make such a call. I have hope that I’ll be able to find who sings like a Geddy Lee who has found Xanadu. It isn’t the first mystery bird I’ve encountered though. I do remember my first, how can one not, that first call which bamboozled and
