The Neighborhood Awakens
The day begins early here. Before the sun rises, the neighborhood is already stirring. The Imam’s call to prayer floats through the dawn between four and five, answered by the shuffling of early risers.
From my armchair by the window, book in hand, I listen. Good morning greetings drift in English and Twi. Parents coax sleepy children awake. Buckets clank as kids fetch water from the neighborhood tap. Gates slide open, engines start, taxis honk, vendors call out. A woman passes by balancing “sweet bread” on her head. Her hands are free, and her voice rises above the morning chorus.
The air fills with the aroma of breakfast cooking. Birds sing, dogs bark, children laugh (or cry, if they are not yet ready to get up). Step by step, sound by sound, the town comes alive.
And then, almost unnoticed, the sun joins the chorus, spilling its glow across the people below.
This reflection is part of my Listening to the Day series of short morning meditations on sounds, stillness, and living fully.
