With the flurry of distant birds against the blue and white lined sky, pheasants raise their heads and look towards the west as one.
Shortly before sunset.
A Wheat Field
Five Seconds
Vigilance
Full With Life
. . .
An unfamiliar sound.
I hear.
We look.
We pause our feast with grains that fill and fall beneath our feet.
In the distance, birds rise above the land.
We attend as one, our flock of feast and life.