are bathed in the bright Spring sunshine so the canny birds sit up there.  In my little city neighborhood there is a shocking burst of beautiful song from time to time.  To my shame I am not sure who is singing what.  One bird makes a clear sort of whistling and I like to tease whoever is making it by copying.,  I have a suspicion it is a male and I should not divert his energy.  Trying to drive me away is not what he should be concentrating on.  Even nature can get distracted. Every weekday morning I stand for a few minutes at the corner of my street and wait for the school bus to come.  My three grandchildren (I will spare you, don’t worry) sit at the window of the bus and wave and throw kisses.  I wave and throw kisses to all four of them. You see, even the big friendly bus driver waves as he turns the bus up the street and carries them away to their day.  My grandchildren are the first to be picked up on the route, so it seems to me that they are chauffeured in their private bus for a few blocks. Waiting for the bus I can stand still on the street corner and see the sun on the top of the trees and hear the birds for a few moments.  Sometimes it is “only” gulls or crows or a little flock of sparrows.  They are just as miraculous in their own way.  Those few moments are a chance to bow to the day that is coming to me.  There is nothing to be done but to watch the sky, the birds, the cars and the people passing by and then to see the big clumsy shape of the yellow bus turning onto my street and to know I will see the little faces and waving hands at the windows.  There is the start of the good day.  Even when the sun is not shining on the tops of the trees, the day is well begun.