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.