It is dark outside. No dawn yet in the east. But a Cardinal in the distance thinks otherwise and begins to sing. And then a nearer one.
And now a Titmouse. I look out the back patio door. The black night is gone, and there is gray light in the eastern sky.
And now a Mockingbird whose song will dominate for the rest of the day, although the breathless Titmouse continues, undaunted.
The sun will be up soon.