the unfolding of the morning

The rhythmic monotony of the noise made by crow's ensured enough irritation to disturb me out of my slumber. The music of the car in reverse and the windy chill caused by my unregulated fan added to the feeling. The sleep was over.
There was darkness in the sky, like old memories that are always there beneath the surface, one only needs to the scratch the surface and they will show, like the old paint posing in its ingenuous nudity due to scratches made on the newly painted car's body. They sky was getting the paint of the morning.
It can evoke images in mind without even asking for its permission to do so. Such is the effect of sound. The crow's were a means of protest by the nature of something gone wrong somewhere near. Certain music reminds one of some incident or some people, though reason may never be able to establish the link. Mothers were busy with getting the children ready for school, the children were as busy as children could be and with things that one wishes with much longing one could get busy with, at a later age.
From the parted curtains I looked out, a crimson horizon greeted me. Ah ! what feelings is nature able to inspire in man everyday. What is made for what ?
Laziness, heaviness and some other -ness (earthiness in general) caught up with me. Why has man this dual pulls defining his existence on earth. His mind, his brain and his soul can soar without stop in the skies of thoughts and emotions unhindered and untied but his body must drag on this earth and be subject to all types demands and be caught in ties?