Hushed Willows higher and higher

Lily was not awake, and never would be, this early. The blackbird snoozed out in the open, a refreshing--if a little unnerving, at first--change from Broken Boulder, between the gnarled branches of a very old willow. The night had been cool and cloudy, the wind lulling her into a blissful sleep. Even the sound of nearby footsteps was not enough to rouse her.

Sorry, Seabreeze. You would have to be an alarm clock, this time.