The robins nesting in the wild rose bush and the catbirds nesting in the forsythia have fledged, but the babies are still flapping and cheeping to be fed, keeping safe in the shade. I finished a story this morning, with catbird keeping me company, flitting back and forth between the trees, and once, landing on the deck railing.
If you’re revising like me, you can borrow the quiet of my morning so you can remember that things take the time they take (obligatory Mary Oliver reference) and you will finish. You’re doing good work. Even the spring birds agree.