Sounds and Sights at 8:00 AM

The dog sniffs every blade of grass newly revealed by melting snow.
Don’t rush him, I think. Let him be a dog. Let him sniff.

Church bells ring—8:00 a.m.
I’m late.

I tell the dog to poop and feel the anxiety rise.
I’m late.

I close my eyes—my small way of easing it.
Listen, I tell myself. What do you hear?

A car passing.
A chickadee.
A robin.
A cardinal.
The soft hiss of a school bus door opening.

Crows.

I look up just in time to see one fly overhead, a stick in its beak three times its size.
I wonder where the nest is—
What kind of home he’s weaving together from scraps?
How clever they are.

At 8:05, I head back inside.
No longer worried about being late.

That was my time.
A reminder of how soothing the sounds of almost nothing can be.