Photos, Writing

To the balcony, to be a bird

They don’t talk much, but they are excitable and appreciative. Winter is here and their minds are hungry for survival. They need sustenance for their children. Don’t we all? Whether those offspring are ideas, interests, or mouths to feed, we all need…

They are blind to the complexities of humanity, without which they would no longer exist. Descartes.  They make a dill weed perch, survey the yard and decide at once to jump, flap, peck, stand, stop, jump, flap, flap, be.

To be a pumpkin seed eater. To be a bird.

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