Dissipate the Gray

The sky is gray with mist descending upon the inhabitants of this unnamed bay. Most lie sleeping, unaware of this dawn ritual, but three peer through the lifting darkness awaiting their sun's return. They perch together but apart on a twig like branch; it is no larger than those carefully avoided by the predators slowly slinking back into a windowless forest. Silhouetted against a sky slowly acquiring its winter flush, they ruffle black feathers yet to reveal their purple tinges. The air is crisp and small puffs of air can be seen in the air above their curious heads as the sun rises to warm the coming day and dissipate the gray.