Birds

I looked outside my bedroom window yesterday morning, and saw a few birds, perching on some bare tree branches. I have the tree in my garden, but if you ask me what kind it is or which the birds were, I'll not know. I was watching how they mingled nicely in their environment, totally blending with the background, protected and almost covered through nature's touch; concealed against hostile eyes. Predators' or enemies'.

I kept marveling and I kept thinking. Shouldn't I know more about this? The birds, the trees... Shouldn't this be an image of no surprise to me? Why did it take me so many years to have the two minutes necessary to gaze at the scenery? At these birds, which I'm sure that are outside my window every year. Why is life so full of repetitive tasks that eventually suck the living out of you? I may be half way through my life already, or even tomorrow I may not wake up at all. Who knows? And all my past has been, is endless hours inside an office in front of a PC, or over a kitchen sink cooking and washing, or I don't even know what else.

Why??