We used to awake at sunrise.   Then Lila turned up and reset our clock.  At 4am in the pitch black, we’d hear her plaintive cry.  Poor starving puppy.  It was breakfast time.  And I’d dutifully stumble downstairs to meet her needs.  As the months ticked over, however, like all adolescents she started sleeping in, but her humans remained on the exacting schedule.  We soon found ourselves waking her.

The other morning Lila and I wandered up the slope behind our house to watch the rustred tips of dawn creep across the horizon.   A delicate display accompanied by birdsong.   Most noteworthy the cackle of kookaburras.  A sound akin to the call of a jungle primate.  Staccato and throaty.  Often performed as a chorus with each family member singing a part.  A daybreak distinctively Australian.  [read more below]

[wpvideo IX8GmyE6 w=484]

As someone who has lived most of her adult life in big cities with hidden sky and soot-stained pigeons, I am acutely aware of the magic of such moments.  And, although Lila has always been a country dog, I get the feeling she senses this, too.   So in the dark we sat quietly on our dewy hilltop, gently and surely conveyed to the start of a new day.

[If you have received this post by email, please click “dog downunder” or “daybreak in the bush” in order to view accompanying video in a web page.]