Far before sunrise, an army of birds lit the air on fire with conversation. Their banter started late in the night now that the weather stick popped to warm and sweat beads formed faster on your forehead. They danced all morning long, so much more to say in the open air with spring in full swing. Sometimes they rested on the thick black power lines, but only for a minute and never many. Trees provided more comfort than electricity, nature is nurture after all.
Birds possessed a carefree presence that mirrored the seasons, an ancient wisdom that inspired when to play, rest, eat and fly. Tied to nothing, connected to everything. Satisfied with the effort of living and leaving when the time was right.