Neighborhood

The bluejay sharpens his beak on an old fence. Anticipation of a meal.

Fat carpenter bees bumping their way along. Small spiders running for their own lives, yet still manage to make me momentarily nervous.

Train horns and sirens. Pieces of conversations, and overhead jets.

What an amazing piece of music. A fugue worthy of Johann. No matter how many times I listen, it never grows old.