This fountain stands in a plaza in Albuquerque’s Old Town and this morning, while Alan and I walk the square, local birds play and preen in its droplets.

Birds enjoy showers but they don’t have soap, soap dishes, or towels.

From their songs, I don’t think they have a care in the world.

At the moment, enjoying Old Town where we visited when little, neither do us brothers.

If I could sing like these birds, I would sing opera and clean up several times a day when it gets hot.

This morning, I enjoy the fountain and the birds, whistle softly to myself, and plan on coming back soon.



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