(Another post about roosters)
Rooster crows heard early in the morning. Mostly they occur 10 minutes before the alarm. Repeating the call to get up, the source's location can be traced through the sound's volume. The roosters are following me, they want to get close to my ear, interrupt my sleep, and bring my morning time to an early start.
Once upon a time, I had roosters. Five roosters free-ranged in the yard and took turns trying to attack me. They puffed up their feathers, flapped useless wings, and danced on their toes. A broom or stick was all I needed to scare them away. Eventually, four were sold and the last one eventually died in the chicken coop of unknown causes. I was not sad to lose my rooster and didn't care if the hens were lonely.
Flash forward to my time in Liberia, the rooster crow became an alarm to wake me up every day. Intentionally, this was the first thing I heard on a daily basis. The crowing worked wonders as a motivator to get up. I did not want to snooze for snoozing meant hearing the alarm again. Sometimes, I heard an answer to my alarm clock from outside my window.
Later, I moved away from that alarm setting. Peacefully, I thought about how I would miss it. Having adjusted to the sound, I briefly wondered if I could miss the rooster.
Into my new home, and into the domain of another rooster. This one was real and again, a free-range. He and his flock peck around the compound unmolested by all. Clucking around, the rooster finds my window for a crow. He finds my window every day. He always finds it before my alarm.
I cannot escape the rooster.
I cannot escape the rooster.
The roost will find me and crow.
