The morning bird

Our mornings do not vary, but they have varied from, say, a decade ago when I would depart bed in the dark around 6 a.m., leaving my child bride in place, sleeping. They say that as one ages, one needs less sleep, but I’ve gone in the other direction. Perhaps it’s just laziness. I’m in bed now till after 7, and we get up at the same time.

I go into the living room where I slip my feet into the Crocs that I always leave in the same spot the previous evening. I continue to the kitchen to take biscuits from the fridge and place them at the ready inside the mini-oven for a hour later.

I take grounds and filter from the coffeemaker which cranked up at 6:30. I put plates on the table. I pour a glass of water, and break off a piece of ready-made toast, the kind you don’t normally find above the Rio Bravo in supermarkets, or at least you didn’t decades ago. Maybe you do now with so many of my new paisanos lurking there.

Today, looking through the window above the kitchen sink, I saw a solitary bird, just sitting. He was on the Garden Patio roof. I walked into the living room to get the Canon, thinking he’ll be gone when I return, but he wasn’t. He was waiting for me.

I took his photo. It’s not a black-and-white shot. It’s color. That was the color at that early moment on this chilly, July day.

11 thoughts on “The morning bird

  1. I’m still up at 5 or so. That hasn’t changed since I retired. I have never heard of ready made toast, had to look it up. The only thing thing I found was from England. I will keep my eye out for it when I go to Soriana next time. I like the birds singing when the sun comes up, great way to start the day.


    1. Kirk: Every Mexican supermarket has that toast. Bimbo makes it. Other bakeries too. If you’ve never noticed it, you just have not been paying attention. It’s about as common as tortillas.


    2. Kirk: That ready-made toast is basically just a giant, unseasoned crouton. It’s always been something of a mystery to me. I think the pleasure of toast is the combination of heat, crunchiness, and a soft center. Pre-made toast only has one of those elements. I’ll wager that you wouldn’t like it much. I think it’s a thing here because there are so many people who can’t or won’t afford a toaster.


      Kim G
      CDMX, Mexico
      Where a recent bout of Montezuma’s revenge impelled me to buy pre-made toast, and I was quickly reminded of why I don’t like it.


  2. I try to get up and out of the house for my walk by 6:30am or so. It’s still around 80 degrees from the overnight temp. If I start any later I have to cut it short because of the humidity. I haven’t tried the ready made toast yet, but our Walmart here in Texas sells the Bimbo brand. I’ll have to pick some up next time I go.


    1. Thirsty: I sure do not miss Texas weather. My heart goes out to you. As for that toast, don’t bother. It’s for convenience. Popping better bread into a toaster is far superior. We don’t touch ours except for a nibble with coffee or, in my case, a glass of water at dawn. But if you want toast in a normal way … meh.

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  3. “Chilly” sounds merciful.

    I must confess that I seldom get to bed before 2 AM. Often it is 3. That is why my rising hour is veritably Windsorian.


    1. Señor Cotton: Yes, mornings here are always chilly, some even cold. You can enjoy this sort of world by selling Casa Cotton and moving to the mountains which is where all sensible Mexicans (and some Gringos) lay their heads at night. And yes, I know you are a night owl. Nothing wrong with that. By the way, your blog is uncharacteristically quiet of late.

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