Birds feel their presence in each moment aware of branches and breeze.
Staying still as a statue, the Black Phoebe watches and waits. Cock of head, spread of wings, he sprints into the air to capture an insect. From branch to branch he focuses for his prey.
With their immersion in life unfolding moment by moment, birds avoid the incessant internal chatter we often suffer.
How will you sweep into the stillness?
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