“Outside the window is a roofed wooden tray he fills with seeds for the birds. They make a sort of dance as they descend and light and fly off at a slant across the strictly divided black sash. At first they came fearfully, worried by the man's movements inside the room. They watched his eyes, and flew when he looked. Now they expect no harm from him and forget he's there. They come into his vision, unafraid. He keeps a certain distance and quietness in tribute to them. That they ignore him he takes in tribute to himself. But they stay cautious of each other, half afraid, unwilling to be too close. They snatch what they can carry and fly into the trees. They flirt out with tail or beak and waste more sometimes than they eat. And the man, knowing the price of seed, wishes they would take more care. But they understand only what is free, and he can give only as they will take. Thus they have enlightened him. He buys the seed, to make it free.”