Marlowe's Aria

We love Renee Fleming in the mornings. There is something so soothing about letting her melodious voice float through the morning air as you sit and sip your coffee. I often imagine (and wish) I am somewhere near the Mediterranean, in a house on the cliffs, the breeze flowing through gauze curtains as the waves lap somewhere below, while the diva's voice caresses the soul.
Marlowe has taken to this as well. He loves to sing in the morning, as he sits by the window, gazing out at the sunshine and birds. Often we'll wake up to his soft, gentle crooning. It is ever so subtle, just a light note here or there, a slight tremolo. He sticks in the same range, perhaps hesitant to try new things for fear that his voice might crack. He's no Renee, but waking up to his fluttery notes has a peacefulness to it, it's a reminder that everything's gonna be ok.