DAY_7
The world had grown still. We’d barely noticed, so wrapped up in our own fight
to cling to what little comfort we had left. It’s only when the temperatures
begin to rise and the birds descend on the yard that we feel the relief of their
return, and thus the weight of their absence. A group of sparrows is drawn to
the puddles formed by melting snow. They flock to it, singing and playing in the
water, unaware of the devastation it represents. Birds know nothing of power
grids or carbon monoxide– only that now they have water.
Now, they can fly.
Winter Log / Summer Log by Nastasya Kistemaker, page 8