I can't see much outside my window at work. It's high on the wall, it tilts inwards, leaving me a view of the sky and of the top of the tree just outside my window.
As a dreamer, I take time outs, day-dream of a story idea, fulfilling a wish and often times my attention turns to the tree outside. I watch with great interest, from season to season, that tree.
From the tiny buds that sprout in the spring, hiding the new bird's nest, to the lush fullness of summer where the birds hide from the mid day heat, to the bright orange contrasting against the bright blue fall sky.
It's barren now, with only a few dead leaves swaying in the breeze.
Ice collects on the ledge between the glass and the cement window ledge. Snow collects on the glass only to melt by the mid day sun, even as the temperatures plummet so close to zero. I stare all day at the grayness outside my window, dull and lifeless as I long for the coming spring.
Today I saw something different, unexpected, the first sign of the changing seasons. Several cardinals, several lady birds and their mates, red against the gray sky. They're pecking at the water that collects near the base of the window, heated only by the heater in my office space. They keep at it for many long minutes, preparing for the gathering storm. I watch with interest as they fly to the barren tree and back again, lapping up the water as if it will be their last for some time.
A simple act of survival, and I stood there and watched until they flew away.
When they were gone and I was alone in the grayness, I turned and walked back to my desk and waited for the gathering storm.