Squinting, noticing the figure.
What a miracle.
Heโs jogging up.
โExcusez-moi!โ Extending the note with a smile. โDid you happen to drop this?โ
What a time to drag out his easel and paints - this image was certainly one to capture.
โThatโs. . . rather vague and ominous sounding.โ Cocking a brow. โThough, as curious as I might be, I suppose itโs none of my business.โ
The bird on his head was quite literally trying to make a nest out of his hair, but the strands refused to listen and straightened back up. Still, the little creature was trying it's hardest.
"Waiting... Something... Will happen... Soon..."
The understatement of the century. In fact, that went for many herbs and flowers.
โRight on the money,โ he replied. โI own a small shop in town, and maintain a garden around my cottage.โ
โWell, youโre free to believe as you see fit,โ he replied. โI, however, find the concept fascinating.โ
Adjusting his binoculars.
โMay I ask. . . what exactly it is youโre doing?โ
"What I... Want...?"
Golden hues drifted over to one of the birds that were still sitting on his shoulder, letting out a cheerful chirp, seeming to be very cosy.
"I don't... Think... They are... Trying to... Tell me anything..."
Giving a shrug, humming softly in tune with the birds.
โPerhaps thatโs what theyโre trying to tell you,โ he replied. โTo follow yourself instead - think about what it is that ๐ฆ๐๐ข want to do.โ
โOverthinking is. . . ah - how to describe it?โ Fingertips drummed against bark, head leaning back.
โThink of it as dwelling on thoughts repeatedly. If youโre continually questioning, second guessing, evaluating and finding yourself unable to stop, youโre probably overthinking.โ
"I don't... Have... Ancestors."
He stated, simply giving up on trying to shoo the creatures away. Instead, taking a sip from the cup in his hand.
"What... Is... Over... Overthinking...?"
โYou know, thereโs 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.โ
Leaning against the treeโs bark, eyes closed, tuning in to the sound of trills and chirps.
"They... Refuse... To leave..."
He spoke as a reply, moving a hand to push one of the birds off his shoulders, but it took the small being only one second after being pushed off, to land back down on his shoulder again.
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.
โPopular I see.โ
Don't mind the strange sight of man, standing very still in a tree, with a paper cup in his hand.
The birds don't even seem to care. In fact, there are a few on his shoulders and one on his head. He's too... Lazy to stop it.