02

Today the maple tree is loud with the singular melody of a Mockingbird, perched in the thick heights of the tree proclaiming and reciting. Thick humidity hugs each leaf tightly, letting moisture cling to the veined surface. The trunk, still wet, still dark. And occasionally a large black blue crow swoops nearby, plagued by the other Mockingbird close on its tail, chasing, and protecting a tree already claimed.