There's a rooster in our neighborhood, across the alley from our house and a few doors west. I heard him this morning as I got my bike out from the basement and rolled it through the backyard and into the alley, where I begin and end my bike commute. That alley is like closure to me, I see it twice a day. On garbage pickup days sometimes I have to wait for the truck to clear the alley first; other times the truck follows me. It's Labor Day, but I went in to work anyway -- I get paid by the hour, and holidays aren't paid automatically, they come out of a bank of accumulated time used for vacation, sick days, and holidays. I didn't want to waste 8 hours of paid time off on a holiday that I didn't have any big plans for. Besides, I get paid overtime when I work holidays. I worked on Memorial Day too.
The rooster wasn't taking the day off either; It was just me and him in the alley this morning. It was nice to have some company.
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1 comment:
I had a lover who had a neighborhood rooster that would wake us up at an ungodly hour...that became delightful. Because of these delicious memories, I get a thrill when I hear a rooster. There is a funk song...Early in the Morning that I groove to on the way to work...it begins with a rooster crow. It claims that the early bird always catches the worm.
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