Silly Bird?

We went outside. For some reason. And I'm sure it was rather cold, as it had been. While you complain a lot about it -- because you're not from here and will probably never be fully used to it-- you try so hard to thrive. Before we were together, I was a hermit; now you drag me out to many places, but that's still me -- so I don't claim to intimately know many people. That's not my thing; I'm skeptical anyone really does, but that's not relevant. I definitely don't. But I'm fairly sure people don't notice as you do. Everyone sees, yes, but things just pass by them; they're too busy with their own thing (and that's fine) to have an opinion about anything, except the obvious. That's one of the things I love so much about you; we notice the same kinds of things. And on this day, you noticed a bird. It was standing on the top of the staircase of our apartment building. You wanted to make a picture -- it wasn't just a silly bird to you, it was beautiful, and for a moment you forced me to see that too. -- Hopefully, I’ve forced you now, too, to notice, not just see, the beauty that was revealed to me that day.