This morning, quite early, I woke to the sound of a wind chimes softly ringing in our arbor, but there was no wind. I rose and stood bare footed (and bare assed) at the sliding door to our yard and looked to the trees, which were still. Perhaps I imagined it. The chimes are one of those small items which are totems for me. They were a present from Meredy and they came with a love poem. I hung them in the arbor and as I move across the deck I frequently stroke them, letting the chimes remind me of her love. In actuality, these are not those specific chimes that she gave me, as the wind and time pretty much disassembled the original chimes. I tried to remount them, but made a shambles of it and simply bought replacement chimes and hung them in the same place. I don’t know why they called to me this morning, but it did not displease me to be up. Age has brought me a fresh appreciation of mornings, as they come with a stillness to which the demands of the day have not yet intruded. On my desk computer is taped a line: “All the mornings of the world leave without returning.” This is the day that I have been given. This is the morning of my life. I think that I will bring tea to my wife in bed and perhaps I will then feed the dog.