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Listen for the Whistle

Listen for the Whistle

By Maria Shriver
Copy to clipboard M389.2 48h70.6L305.6 224.2 487 464H345L233.7 318.6 106.5 464H35.8L200.7 275.5 26.8 48H172.4L272.9 180.9 389.2 48zM364.4 421.8h39.1L151.1 88h-42L364.4 421.8z

I don’t know what the weather is like where you are, but here where I'm at, it’s chilly on this May morning. There is a haze in the sky, and I can hear birds in the distance. There is actually a lone chirp that I hear. It actually sounds more like a whistle. For whom is this bird whistling, I wonder? Who or what is it calling out for? I don’t know, but I whistle back.

I love the early morning. It’s a time when the world hasn’t gotten going just yet. Sure, I know things are always going, but I feel removed from the busyness of everything in the early morning hours. I’m quieter and softer in the morning. I’m not swept up yet in the information of the day.

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