I squint as the sun glares at the earth,
As though it is watching.
The wind flutters faintly,
Overcome by the beauty of this day.
I kneel and watch the birds
As they watch me.
I wonder what they are thinking,
Or saying to each other
In their high-pitched chirps.
Or maybe, they are just singing with joy.
I watch as a blue jay lands on the old sycamore,
And the branches seem unperturbed.
The bird is now a part of the tree
and the fluttering leaves that caress the air.
I see the bark that has peeled in places,
From the harsh weather it has endured
And I wonder why it sits so calmly.