Love Birds

There is a beautiful love story that takes place in the top of our tree every night. It is best observed while reclining in the hammock as not to strain one's neck or tire one's legs while standing at the veranda's edge.  This love is not crazy or spontaneous. Its consistent and its sweet and it goes something like this:

Every night at 6pm this guy comes along and perches upon this branch.
He does not  try to change the meeting place by hopping
over to the palm or frangi pani tree.

Every night she joins him. They might sit facing the house for a minute,
pretending to be strangers that unexpectedly met at the bar.

But, inevitably, they will turn to take in the view of the city and cuddle up
close to each other, much too quick for mere strangers.
They just can't resist. 

They flirt. Grooming themselves, rubbing their beaks together and nuzzling
cheek to cheek.  They regurgitate palm nuts they have collected previously,
passing the nuts back and forth, sometimes letting them fall to the ground,
sometimes enjoying the treat.

Sometimes you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
This is their game until the sun goes down.

Its such a lovely and reliable relationship. Every night is the same but neither participant seems bored or annoyed by the ritual. Every night the spark is still there. I feel lucky to witness this intimate exchange of these charming little love birds.

In other news, I stumbled upon this blog the other day http://www.humansofnewyork.com/ 

Apparently millions of people have done this before so it may not be new to you. 

It made me cry. It made me laugh. It made me happy to be here.