Spring thing

This morning, as I forcibly drug myself from sleep, I lay in bed looking out the window. Due to how our home is configured, all I can see are the upper limbs of a black oak. This morning spring arrived, blown in on a gale threatening to rip lesser trees asunder. The limbs of the little oak were dancing merrily dancing about, as if an electric tree boogaloo were the right and proper dance for the occasion. Espying a bird’s nest in the breakdancing branches, all I could think was that days like today bring veritable amusement park rides to our local tree dwellers. And I hoped that they raised their feathered, and some furred, arm-structures heaven-ward and screeched, or tweeted, “wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

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