It’s
a
feeling
of
relief,
immense
happiness,
a
certainty
of
being
alive,
in
a
world
made
by
God,
a
natural
world,
that
still
exists,
even
when
we
can’t
see
our
neighbors
on
the
other
side
of
the
street.
I
admire
the
song
of
birds,
yes,
the
song
of
free
birds,
of
birds
that
fly
over,
here,
there,
everywhere,
where
they
feel
so
good,
the
true
owners
of
the
air,
of
the
wind,
of
the
sky.
The
song
of
birds
insinuates
a
sweet
morning
of
seduction,
more
than
human,
almost
divine,
a
celestial
morning:
blue,
green,
yellow,
visible
song
of
clarity.
Birds’
songs
don’t
have
only
music:
they
have
light,
they
glint,
they
have
movement,
they
have
color
and
brightness.
I
would
say
they’ve
got
perfume
of
wild
smells
of
my
hinterland.
Wanderlino
Arruda