Birds

     Driving home, I noticed a row of birds fixed on a light pole. They were sitting in the light February rain; seemingly uninterested in the traffic below. The social constructs of the bird world seems so alien and simple by our high human standards. I wonder what it must be like to feel only in the most primal of instincts.To not worry about legacy nor mortality. I suppose politics and economics are foreign concepts when the wind is beneath your wings. Wars and protests are unknown when your beak is buried deep in the morning earth, searching for your breakfast. Being technically suave in a competitive work environment is not even a thought when you are soaring above it all. Updating your resume seems so trivial when you could be an owls snack at any time. Then again, I envy those little birds perched high above the busy highway, with the power to simply fly away to wherever the wind may carry them.