Filled with bird chirpings. Great bird noises. Busy bird noises. Bickering bird noises. Everyone going about their bird business of the day, gathering bugs, worms and other things of bird life.
The bright green, dark green, in between green ... trees standing perfectly still. Being. Witnessing.
The noise, the silence, simultaneously.
The countless tiny droplets of mist coats all souls. Filling every available surface with gentle life.
I lift up my face.
