Roosters crow. Birds tweet and sing. A lazy haze of fog and smoke dim the view of morning in the hills of Rwanda. A woman begins sweeping her dusty porch with a bundle of short twigs. She bends over at the hip and rhythmically sweeps back and forth, back and forth- Shoo, shoo, shoo, shoo. The birds are both loud and quiet, EERR! EERR! EERR! tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet. These are the cacophony of sounds that fill an African sunrise.
The lightning and rain of last night have left many clouds lingering this morning. But a pink hue begins to break through. Then yellow, brighter and brighter. The clouds shift slightly and suddenly an intense orange arc rises above the horizon. You can look right at it. You can almost see the earth rotate toward the brilliant sphere. As the sun continues to rise in the sky, you have to look away. It's too bright now. It's as if the sun was rising just for you, but now it must go on its way and illuminate the rest of the city. We will greet each other again tomorrow.
One bird's voice calls louder now, "Whoo Whoo Whoo Whoo Whoo Whoo!" as if it's cheering for the break of day. I agree, little bird. I agree.