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Early mornings here in coastal Southern California arrive with the sound of mourning doves. Sometimes they call out at other times, but always in the very early morning, when the dew is still heavy and the sun is bright but not warm. From early childhood I associate their quiet “hoo.. hoo..” with the feeling of lying awake in the morning, assembling the coming day in my head and waiting until the last moment to get out from under the warm covers and start.

Hearing them at any time makes me feel a little cold and a little tired, but also comforted by the familiar local fauna. It might be harder to wake up without them.