The bird landed. Worm-in-mouth, ready to feed the little ones. The nest high up in the tree above Central Park. Those birds had the best view in all of New York.

The birds could see snow, sun, rain, and leaves, all land upon the Park's territory; people-watch, bird watch, even. They could sleep, sing, then fly away, and come right back to their home above the sidewalks and tourists.

Birds in NYC, see more than most others do in a lifetime. Watching people kiss, get engaged, fight, collapse, run, die, LIVE. They see night in NY, day in NY, winter, spring, summer, fall. Even in winter, when the birds fly south, these birds get to see the tree-lighting by flying over to Rockefeller Center, the Rockettes from a tiny hole in the roof of Radio City Music Hall...

The next bird landed, in a tree next door to the first, two nests of birds, ready to see the world, atop two trees of one Park. The world visited that park daily, and the birds got to see it all...