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Pausing. Adjusting binoculars. “. . ?”

Mid pan - nothing like a pair of eyes swooping in unannounced. “Putain de merde -“ from a hushed breath.

“I should ask the same.” Lowering binoculars. “Sunny.”

Is suspicious men lurking in forests the new normality?

Sipping tea in his cottage, cats in lap, wondering if there’s going to be a centaur next.

With those birds using the stranger freely as a playground, the florist felt more at ease. Shoulders relaxing, he made his way closer to stand at the base of said tree. A soft laugh given, honey gaze observing the scene. “Popular I see.”

“You know, there’s the belief that birds landing on you have meaning. A message from your ancestors, a sign of good luck - even a sign to avoid overthinking and focus on inner balance.” Leaning against the tree’s bark, eyes closed, tuning in to the sound of trills and chirps.

“Overthinking is. . . ah - how to describe it?” Fingertips drummed against bark, head leaning back. “Think of it as dwelling on thoughts repeatedly. If you’re continually questioning, second guessing, evaluating and finding yourself unable to stop, you’re probably overthinking.”

Giving a shrug, humming softly in tune with the birds. “Perhaps that’s what they’re trying to tell you,” he replied. “To follow yourself instead - think about what it is that 𝑦𝑜𝑢 want to do.”

“Well, you’re free to believe as you see fit,” he replied. “I, however, find the concept fascinating.” Adjusting his binoculars. “May I ask. . . what exactly it is you’re doing?”

The understatement of the century. In fact, that went for many herbs and flowers. “Right on the money,” he replied. “I own a small shop in town, and maintain a garden around my cottage.”

No need for a gym when there’s two dozen boxes to unload every few days. 😮‍💨

What a time to drag out his easel and paints - this image was certainly one to capture. “That’s. . . rather vague and ominous sounding.” Cocking a brow. “Though, as curious as I might be, I suppose it’s none of my business.”

Someone dropped their grocery list?

Squinting, noticing the figure. What a miracle. He’s jogging up. “Excusez-moi!” Extending the note with a smile. “Did you happen to drop this?”