It’s early morning in the suburbs.  The sound of birds chirping outside can be heard as the sweet smell of the morning air rushes into your nostrils.  The gurgling of the coffee brewing can be heard coming from the kitchen, as well as the sound of the morning traffic rushing down the street in front of the house.  In front of you is the local newscaster lulling on about the events of the day before and what the world has planned for the day ahead of you.  However, like most people, your only concern is what the weather is going to be like throughout the day.

You hear a vehicle stop in front of your house, pause for a moment, then drive away.  This signals your favorite time of the day.  It’s time to check the mail.  It’s like a miniature Christmas holiday every day for you.  You never quite know what might show up in your mailbox.  As you slip on the first pair of shoes you can find you begin to wonder what might have shown up today.  The creaky front door moans as its bulky frame swings open allowing the crisp air to blow in and fill your home.  You make your way outside as the door thuds shut behind you.  You get to the mailbox and as you open it it makes the familiar tin-like whine that it always makes when you open it.  You then shut it as it makes a quiet noise that pales in comparison to that made by the door.  As you turn to walk inside you see that your neighbor is going about the same routine as you.  He waves hello and shouts, “How are you this morning?”, his rusty voice hinting at his old age.  You respond and ask the same then turn to walk back inside.  While the symphony of the morning continues on behind you.