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Listen for the Whistle

Listen for the Whistle

By Maria Shriver
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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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