Anyway, there's a moment between dreaming and full wakefulness when I am those crickets. I don't want to sound all Zen, but that's exactly what it is. One moment, I'm hunting the snowy hippopotamus in the wilds of Philadelphia, and the next, I'm Man Martin, thinking about how much money I need to make and how to lose another five pounds. But in the split between those moments, I am aware that I am not the dream-hunter of hippopotamus, but I have not yet come to myself as the Man Martin of pecuniary interests and weight loss, and there is only the sound of crickets and the knowledge the crickets are for me, that they summon me - and in that peculiar interval between the dreaming identity and the waking, I am the crickets.
Is it possible that having been crickets, even for a split moment, affects the rest of my day? That some cricket-like perspective lingers with me?
This is why choosing the right alarm is so important. First, I would advise readers of this blog against using an actual alarm to wake up. No one should spend a moment of their day being an annoying buzz. I think being waken up by the radio is also a dangerous gamble: true, for a fleeting moment you might get to be a favorite song you'd nearly forgotten, but it's just as likely to be a traffic snarl or a cold front that will ruin the weekend. Even if you don't briefly become the first sound you hear upon waking, even if it doesn't subtly shape you for the entire day, nevertheless, it is the first sound, and for goodness' sake, it should be a nice one.
The best sound to wake up to would be the merry chirping of birds or the soft
Just that. Silence.