I sat on my back porch, wrapped in my fuzzy worn robe—the one that’s twenty years old that I just can’t seem to get rid of. The birch trees waved “good morning,” and the newly planted gerbera daisies stretched their faces to the sun…just a bit higher than the day before. Then I heard him. The rooster.
ER-er-ER-er-ERRRR. Read more…