The blue spring wind drifted the plum boughs up to the sun, an offering. In that moment you were one with the universe, even if five months gone from it, suggested the cricket song. A mourning dove cooed into the blue-powdered white thought. A set of wind chimes gently dinged somewhere not too far off. The alert brown alleycat's ears twitched like anxious pans, fanning the air to pick up and sort out the confusing soundmix the wind carried. Somewhere, very faintly, briefly in the distance, when in an instant of mercy traffic and all the other racket stopped, a tinny radio signal grew rich with shoals of orderly baroque violins.
Mourning dove perched on a tree limb: photo by Pccromeo, 2007
Mourning dove (Zenaida macroura): John James Audobon, from The Birds of America (1827-1838)
Mourning dove (Zenaida macroura), near Almaden Lake, Santa Teresa County Park, San Jose, California: photo by Don Debold, 2008