I awoke yesterday morning to a shroud of gray. The overcast skies soon gave way to a misty drizzle, sapping the strength out of my already lagging motivation. The outlook for having a productive day seemed as dismal as the weather forecast.
As I glanced at the items on my to-do list (the kinds of things that didn’t contain a rain cancellation clause) the sweet sound of a bird singing drifted to my ears. I opened the front door to find a mockingbird perched on the tip-top of the holly tree, belting out his songs with abandon.
As beads of water gathered on blades of grass and raindrops dripped from flower petals, he sat and sang, undeterred by the dreariness of the day.
After awhile, he moved to the rose bush where he continued his concert.
I have to confess that listening to him sing on a rainy Monday morning totally lifted my spirits. What seemed like a day to dread turned into quite a delight. I even managed to get a good bit accomplished, with his chirping providing the perfect accompaniment to my tasks.