Every morning these little birds come to this window, my favorite window. Sometimes it's just one or two, sometimes it's more than I can count. They fill the rose bushes, hop on the window sill and then take off collectively as I tip-toe closer. I've come to expect them now.
This is such a simple thing, these little morning visits. They make me smile. They make me remember the roses still need pruning. They make me realize that no matter what else is going on, there are always- always- moments like this to savor.
It also doesn't hurt that I just have to sing Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" after these morning visits.
That song can fix just about anything.
