Bernie met Bird in a place that he usually walked by at least three times a day without even glancing up from the pavement. On this particular day, Bernie had decided to rest against a fence.

“Excuse me, but you seem to be leaning against my part of the fence.â€?

Bernie stared at the horizon ahead of him noting that the outline of the buildings made a neat pattern.

“I’ve been walking by this fence for years and never got any complaints.â€?

“You don‘t often get complaints for minding your path. But the fact remains, you are still leaning against my part of the fence.â€?

Bernie looked up at the sky. It was remarkably blue that day. He couldn’t recall if it had ever been that blue before.

“What makes this part of the fence your part?â€?

“This part is my part because I say it is.â€?

Bernie looked to his side. There was a little Bird perched on the fence. Bernie got up and left the fence, his eyes taking in a brilliant view as the sun sank from the sky, to the buildings, to the pavement.