Whish whish. The bird whips the air into infinitesimal undulations as it lands on my sturdy wood. It is vividly colored with bright hues of red and yellow, with a splashy orange beak. Feeling its ethereal presence gently resting over me, I cannot help but be awed by this exquisite creature and its lack of a physical or mental burden upon its delicate, yet strong, frame. The bird rests on me for a bit- not the least bit pensive or glum. It simply pauses to enjoy the timeless but surreptitiously fleeting moment perched upon me. Then, my feathered friend is once again ready to take flight- but I am not ready for its departure. There is still so much to ponder about this divine bird, like its ability to live in the moment, merely reveling in the air that it breathes. At the most spontaneous caprice, it is able to travel from place to place without a care in the world. Whereas I will always and forever be attached to this tree- left alone with just my own thoughts to keep me occupied. Enviously mulling over the bird, I myself have a sudden caprice, a shift in the inner workings of my brain. I am not a plain branch- no- I am much more complex than that. I attach to a statuesque, sturdy trunk, home to miniature dwellings for innumerable creatures. I grow from secure, unwavering roots- with the ability to give life to the tree and its all-encompassing web of animals reliant on it. Just like the bird is delicate, yet strong, I bear colorful leaves and abundant fruit from my lean structure. Providing food for animals and people alike is second nature to me. Then, I realize that the bird was not enlightened because it had the freedom of traveling from place to place, but because it learned to become enchanted with its surroundings, mystified with every inch of its environment. I’m learning to do this too, although the process is a slow one. I just have to take it day by day, breeze by breeze, basking in both the radiant, beaming sun and the lustrous moon, cloaked in misty twilight through the narrow spaces between the rustling leaves.
Whish whish. The leaves twirl to the ground harmoniously. The autumn weather has set in now. Leaves fall to the forest floor like rain drops patter upon the Earth- softly and melodically. The fruit is copious and plump, fresh picked to nourish the world. Occasionally, the bird stops by to rest upon my firm branch. We have developed a comfortable silence, simply taking in the leaves, the fruit, the crisp, autumn air, never passing judgement, just becoming at peace with the serene setting. Some say fall is the season where everything starts dying- but nevertheless, I feel extraordinarily alive.