Writing in Snow

I hear birds singing

I hear birds singing
Their sweet songs are echoing
Through the neighborhood.

It's spring in Las Vegas, the birds are building nest and singing. It's the male birds singing, they're attempting to attract mates. Yesterday, I saw one carrying a twig into the stone pine tree in my front yard. He's building a nest in that tree and soon he will find a mate. This means I can't consider cutting down those trees until fall.

Eventually, I'm going to have the trees cut down because I have no other choice. I'm going to have the driveway fixed because the roots of the stone pine trees are tearing up the cement driveway. I have to have the driveway fixed, which means the trees have to go. However, I'm going to have to wait until autumn for that because this spring and summer I have to have plumbing work done inside the house.

This spring I can enjoy the birds and their offspring. Then in the fall have the trees cut down and the wood removed. When I do have the trees removed, I'm going to miss them because those trees were in the yard when we moved into this house. I've already had one of the trees removed, I had her removed last year because the roots were headed for the foundation and the removal cost me less then it ordinarily would cost.

The tree I had removed was the one that reminded me of an entwife. The choice was difficult, but it had to be made because the roots would have destroyed the foundation to the house. Sometimes I think the difficult choices we make prepare us for even more difficult choices, but we do what we have to do to survive; to live.

Each morning I listen to the birds singing. The birds start their songs at dawn and they sing all day long. It doesn't seem to matter to them that we have cats in the neighborhood which could endanger their family. The birds sing, I hear the birds sing, the cats hear the birds sing and life goes on. I know there is a lesson in this somewhere, but I'm not sure what that lesson is at this time. Perhaps if I mediate on the trees and the birds, I'll find the lesson. In the mean time, I'm going to enjoy hearing the birds sing every day.

The entwife is gone
Leaving only a stump in
The yard where she lived.

The birds are singing
They mourn for the entwife as
They build their new nest.

Word count: 429