Before dawn. Birdsong. Crows rouse earlier than finches this November morning. All night quiet among the branches, then flapping into wakefulness and soon comes an outbreak of life. So much to say as the sun brings the day. Utterances to full calls echo through thick magnolia and crape myrtle branching nude. The trees change shape with limbs waking to the dawn, reaching for each other, like holding hands for help with the work of lifting to the sun. Like us all, quiet and sti