The sky colours in the dark with pink and orange fingers.
Birds chatter their approval in myriad voices growing bolder with each passing minute. Guinea fowl screech from the rooftops, setting the dogs to lend their rumbling bass to the chorus greeting the dawn.
Wind chimes jumble their syncopated thoughts into the air with enough force to startle a hadeda into squawk-filled flight, a moment too soon for a cat on the prowl.
And underneath it all, with the precision and monotonous elegance of a jazz drummer, the click of the electric fence marks time in perfect counts of four.