In the morning wake up tired and worn out in body and spirit. Struggle to sweep the old seed and other debris from the spot under the freeway where I feed the birds. My arms and legs feel torn up. Walk to the office. Put out seed on the sidewalk across my window at work. Watch the birds eat happily. Work the rest of the afternoon. See a bird outside the window sitting on the fire escape. Walk home. At night watch “The Birds” (1963). Those birds were all big and bad ass. The birds I take care of are small and timid.
