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Earlier when I came outside, the sun was hot, but the breeze kept me cool.

I wrote about it in my app journal and wrote something along those lines

in my paper journal, the one with the gold trimmed edges. Now I’m

back outside and the sun is hiding behind the tree to the West and a little,

grey, red-chested bird waddled on his two tiny legs across the concrete to

see me. The wind chimes are playing their own random melody, and the little

sprouts of wild flowers surround me in our outdoor area.

The wind chimes, crickets, and birds are speaking their uneven music answering

a language that the wind understands.