Dusk

Sometimes, I sit in the yard. The sound of the wind whooshing through the trees and the birds tweeting and chirping everywhere pleases me. I allow the sun to dance on my cheeks, and I close my eyes.

This is my nirvana. This is what I’ve been waiting for all winter. A red-winged black bird cheeps from the tree straight ahead. A song sparrow churs to my left. A northern house wren joins their chorus.