Sounds in Avian rhythms.

Good morning little birds. How wonderful to watch you enjoying the rain as the skies bathe the world, cleansing its soul in rivers of healing waters today.

How utterly marvelous it is to see you all again.

Has it already been a whole year since I have been watching you from a comfy view as I too perch by my window. How your little feathers dance with the colorful droplets in glorious enjoyment. No shying away from a bath, as if you are cleansing your minds and spirits of worry and care.

You are all my inspiration. As I watch you my lips smile, my eyes also dance to the merry movements of your watery jigs and my heart is renewed every morning. My soul flies with your birdsongs.

I know, I know. You are not the same birds that I see for a whole year, you all mature so fast, ten days in the nest and then you appear on yonder rooftop. Before I know it one is gone and another takes its place. But that is ok, it is the cycle of birdlife, just as it is with the cycle of human existence. Only it takes much longer for us to fly from our nests.

Wings of Reflection

Dee sat by her window, a quiet observer of the world outside. Her small, sunlit room offered a perfect vantage point to the roof where a family of birds nested. It was here, amidst the gentle cooing and fluttering of wings, that Dee found herself reflecting on the intricacies of life.

Spring

In spring, the nest brimmed with new life. Tiny, fragile chicks emerged from their speckled shells, their high-pitched chirps filling the air. Dee marveled at their innocence and vulnerability, the way they opened their beaks wide in anticipation of nourishment. It reminded her of her own beginnings, the dependence and trust she had placed in the hands that nurtured her.

Summer

As summer unfolded, the chicks grew bolder, their wings strengthening with each tentative flap. Dee watched as the parents encouraged them to leave the nest, to explore the world beyond. The young birds hesitated, teetering on the edge before taking their first flight. Each successful flutter brought a surge of pride, their newfound freedom echoing Dee's own memories of stepping out into the world, filled with both trepidation and excitement.

Autumn

Autumn arrived, and the fledglings, now confident flyers, perched atop the roof. They surveyed their surroundings with curious eyes, the world a vast expanse of possibilities. Dee saw herself in them, the yearning for exploration and the quest for identity. She recalled her own journey, the highs and lows, the times she had soared and the moments she had faltered.

Winter

Winter's chill brought a period of reflection. The nest lay empty, the young birds having moved on to new adventures. Dee sat by her window, the quietness of the season amplifying her thoughts. She pondered the cycles of life, the constant ebb and flow, the endings that give way to new beginnings. The empty nest was not a symbol of loss, but of growth and progression. It mirrored her own path, the lessons learned, and the wisdom gained.

The Cycle

Through the year, Dee's contemplation deepened. She saw her life reflected in the birds' journey...the stages of dependence, growth, exploration, and reflection. The cycle was one of nature's profound truths, and the beauty of life. Each season brought its own challenges and rewards, shaping her understanding of herself and the world always unfolding anew.

Dee's introspection was not tinged with regret, but with a serene acceptance. The birds had taught her that life is a series of flights, each one building on the last, leading to new horizons. She felt a kinship with the birds, their experiences mirroring her own journey towards self-discovery and fulfillment.

As the year drew to a close, Dee felt a quiet contentment. The birds had moved on, but their presence lingered in her thoughts. She had found a sense of peace, a deeper understanding of the cycles that define existence. Through her window, she had glimpsed the profound interconnectedness of all life, and in that realization, she had found her place in the universe.

The freedom of the bird and human experience intertwined into:

Wings of Freedom.

In the hush of dawn, morning light gleams, Birds take flight, chasing sunbeams. Their wings tell stories of skies vast and wide, and the freedom of the human mind.

With feathers unfurled, they dance on the breeze, Above dreamed forests and turquoise seas. Their songs rustle through branches, both old and new, A celebration of freedom, pure and spirited.

Humans stare from below, with dreams just as grand, as they walk paths of wonder in this boundless land. Their hearts soar high with each step they take, Mirroring the journey birds elegantly make.

Together we travel, in sky and on earth, United by the essence of freedom's bells. Birds in their flight, humans in their quest, both seeking a place where their souls find peace.

In the golden sunset, as day meets night, Birds home to their roosts, humans find walls. Freedom, a yearning, a journey, a song, Intertwining lives where they both belong.

The season of the birds here is never ending. They disappear for a short while when it gets really cold. Some are never far away, depending on the species. Robins, blackbirds and thrushes, among others, will entertain all year round.

I can always depend on the little blackbirds to rise with the sun every morning, rain or shine. A constant march of little feet and wings on the rooftops, starting my day as I sit with a book, a cup of tea or my trusty computer screen as my fingers fly with the rhythm of the bird songs.

"Birds flying high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, it's a new day. It's a new life for me, and I'm feeling good". (Michael Buble).