And then there is the approach of Autumn and September impatiently tapping at the window, intimidating August, chasing it away. I reach out my hands in an attempt to catch hold of it, but it is already overshadowed by distance, one step removed. Only yesterday it was April and there was the whole of Summer; it was a time of promise and hope. I naively believed that I deserved it, that I would be delivered unblemished months. It was such a bad winter, so very long and cold.

But here I am on the edge of the season, dragging so...

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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,...

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