A Morning Jump

I poked my head out from the round doorway of the birdhouse, greeting the crisp morning air. Right outside, a sturdy wooden perch stick pointed straight into the open courtyard. I gripped the lower lip of the hole with both hands, swung my legs out, and dropped solidly onto the round wooden peg. It bounced lightly under my boots. Leaning forward over the edge, I looked down at the courtyard lawn spread out below, with birds chirping in the branches overhead. I crouched low, centered my balance on the narrow cylinder, and threw two quick punches into the morning draft. Moving out here wakes me right up.