A titter tatter in the morning hours wakes me

A simple thing

One heard by all every morning

Yet a treasure to me

A bus ride every morning passes by the same scenery

Yet I watch as the year goes by

I see the changes in our world through the seasons

I watch as colors wilt and die only to return to us again

Many people gaze upon their phones

Yet I gaze upon the world around me

To spot the ospreys upon the branches

To see the swish of the foxes tail

Nature ever changing

Always a form of art

To glean a story from

How desperately I fear that it will all vanish