There’s this bird that sits in a tree outside of my window every morning. Her subtle tweet sounds would normally be welcomed in any peaceful ambient environment, but as the first thing I hear, it serves as more of an alarm clock.
She stays there, on the branch of the tree, for a few more hours – audibly chatting away with her surroundings.
Then she leaves.
This pattern repeats, and is essentially mirrored at the same time every single day.
This bird seemingly has no understanding of the construct of time. She moves and acts by feeling.
And for whatever reason, she feels most comfortable in my tree in the mornings.
Where does she go at around noon every day? I’m not sure. But I can guess that it’s somewhere that she feels she is needed and welcomed.