“Outside a sparrow was swaying back and forth on the branch of a birch tree. A tiny drop fell away from beneath his tail. Ruffling its feather triumphantly, it soared off toward a destination unknown.”

“Before the sparrow arrived, you had almost stopped thinking about flight. Then, last winter, it soared through the sky and landed in front of you, or more precisely on the windowsill of the covered balcony adjoining your bedroom. You knew the grimy window panes were caked with dead ants and dust, and smelt as sour as the curtains. But the sparrow wasn’t put off. It jumped inside the covered balcony and ruffled its feathers, releasing a sweet smell of tree bark into the air. Then it flew into your bedroom, landed on your chest and stayed there like a cold egg.”

“ Outside, a birch tree bends from the weight of the snow. it'll spring back up once the snow melts, back to its normal, upright self. could that happen to me ?”

“You fell off the tree of fucked-up-weird and slammed every branch on the way down.”

“I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~And climb black branches up a snow-white trunkToward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,But dipped its top and set me down again.That would be good both going and coming back.One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”

“A thin yellow curtain hung in front of the corner window as boney tree limbs tapped on the glass like an unwelcome visitor. Despite the tiny buds on the trees outside, the branch at this particular window was still bare.”