Posted by: Jimely Flores | February 20, 2015

Ruffled feathers

I am not a bird. Yet, I have so much love for birds. I tend to silence my wake up dawns just to hear the cacophony of birds tweets in the trees surrounding my house. I make a habit of drinking my coffee in my rose yard just to observe the small birds hopping from one petal to another, to sip the morning dewdrops sweetened by the flowers’ nectar.
I love the birds even if I’m not one of them. I do not know why, when and up to what extent the feathers of birds get ruffled. I would love to be in with that wonderful mystery. Help from the birds is much welcome opportunity.

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