Neighbors all tossed awake by early morning bird call and I throw open the living room windows to let in summer’s burnt clarity. One building over, a crow suns wings extended on the lintel. On the library’s living roof, once-wintered reeds green and wildflowers weave into the empty spaces between. Fledglings perch on streetlights and apex the rebloomed trees. I look closely, notice when caw unlatches from bird & flies off on its unwinged trajectory. I do not capture this flight. Do not hold my phone up. Instead, let the unknown call permeate hearing, knowing a bird’s call carries more than the bird’s name. I stop looking for false answers.