When The Birds Go Silent.

This morning, I noticed something that felt like a small heartbreak:
The birds were gone.
No chirping, no fluttering, no morning doves cooing in the distance.

Just silence.

We’re still in summer’s grasp, but it feels like something is slipping away. I looked out into the light, and everything around me glowed silver-bright—threaded with stringy yellow floaters dancing in the air. It should’ve felt alive, but instead, I felt the weight of absence.

I didn’t realize how much those birds meant until they stopped singing.
Now I’m listening for them in the quiet, wondering where they’ve gone...
and what it means.


 

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