Morning.

This morning I laid in bed thinking and listened to the little birds outside my open window speaking in their native tongue. I made sure that I soaked up every chirp chirp. I closed my eyes and recorded them in my head. With the realization that it won't be long until that window closes, to prevent the cold from getting me, and the sound will be replaced with the shovel clearing the bitter snow away so I can keep walking.

Another summer gone. Another fall on it's way. Another winter awaiting. And another spring that I'll be begging for, that will lead me back to the warm arms of summer. If life is good to me, next summer I'll get a chance to lay in this bed again and tap my feet to the sound of the birds melody outside my window. Remembering how this made me feel this morning and remembering that life is good to me.

It was good to see you, summer.