Just beyond my kitchen window, I keep a bird bath filled with fresh water; nestled among my garden plants in the dappled shade of our Japanese maple, it mirrors the passing clouds, refracts sunlight, shines like quicksilver. It catches my eye constantly, and honestly, it’s a wonder I ever get anything done.
Throughout the day, I’ll pause at the sink and gaze out the window to the bird bath below. It looks like I’m here, but really, I’m not.
I have leapt into the sky.