Seeing without being seen. Observing unnoticed. The grebe is fetching, the duck strangely bites. Goose Nile and die-hard kingfisher exemplary of the #watervogels in the rudder area. The flamingo confesses color where the penguin guarantees a large gray gender. Unaccomplished business, the stork looks relaxed in demand for an outright renaissance. In a clump, the reed bunting gurgling, enjoying the natural wetness. Wide open crane clatter and clap rippling knee-deep.

From the inside out in my element frantic with joy because of bird freedom. The eye also wants some, and mirrored plane, the ray of the sun falls on the smooth ice that melting still life. Beaks and pelvis, breeding tail pins, feathers, stirring plenty.

What do I see? Various plumage, the whole egg food, until it gives me crow's feet at the shivering edges of my magpie eyes. Take a flight, lightly grounded and drive the water. Not a hobby, figured out.

Existential questions like who came first, the cuckoo or the egg? The call for self-esteem in the outward value is, like that of a worthy, so hospitable, suspicious. A long-eared owl snaps itself, the Canadian goose speaks liberating English but also French and the curlews flee from the rain.

A bank swallow does not make a summer teal yet, but goes aside for the humming nightingale. A blue Monday for the heron of the same name who seems to be experiencing hot flashes. In the cormorant, I hear the garden warbler with the final signal. Get into my nest on time tonight.

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