Even before daybreak, the concert begins just outside my bedroom window. “Cheerily? Cheer up. Cheerily,” warbles a robin. “Peter, peter, peter,” whistles a tufted titmouse. “What cheer! What cheer! Birdie-birdie-birdie,” proclaims a cardinal in a loud, descending, slurred note.

Birders call it the “dawn chorus,” the seemingly joyful tweeting, twittering and chirping of songbirds, mostly males, that begins with the first sliver of daylight and continues until well after sunrise. By the time the sun is up, well over 20 songbird species may be in full voice in Atlanta’s neighborhoods.

Not surprisingly, this is the time of year when the dawn chorus is most exuberant — when singing songbirds are either defending a nesting territory or trying to attract a mate.

The sunrise singing is a true marvel of nature, although not fully understood.

I don’t worry, though, about understanding it. Birdsong simply makes me happy. Ever since I can remember, the dawn chorus has enchanted me. The spirited singing at dawn is when I most appreciate nature, when there is the promise of another beautiful spring day and the world seems at peace, if only for half an hour.

This spring, I have an even greater appreciation of this natural music after reading the book “The Singing Life of Birds: The Art and Science of Listening to Birdsong,” by ornithologist Donald Kroodsma, professor emeritus at the University of Massachusetts.

He has some great advice for appreciating this gift of nature: “Above all, listen. Slow down. Pull up a chair. Hear the nuances of how the most common and familiar birds around you are singing … a robin … a chickadee … a sparrow. Identify who is singing, if you can, but more importantly try to crawl inside the mind of this singing bird, coming as close as you can to understand what it is like to be the bird itself. Spend an hour or an entire morning with one singing bird as you get to know him, just as you would with any human friend. Life will be all the richer for it.”

In the sky: The moon will be last-quarter Monday, said David Dundee, Tellus Science Museum astronomer. Mercury is low in the west just after dark and sets about an hour later. Venus also is in the west at dusk and sets about three hours later. Jupiter, too, is high in the west at dusk and sets before midnight. Saturn rises out of the east just after dark. Mars isn't visible now.