It is the third day after the spring equinox. When spring arrives, we tend to know with a certainty that perhaps only the onset of autumn compares. I woke to bird song. It was only 5 am yet a Blackbird's voice cut through the night. I have seen the Blackbird during the day, perched on the balcony railing next to the bedroom window. It sung for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes before other birds joined, and the dawn chorus kicked in. I lay in bed in the greying light and wondered: how does the first bird know when to sing? It felt as if the Blackbird had sung up the sun, not the other way around.