An illusion

Just as quickly, it fell silent. The grass stilled. From high above, a piercing cry drifted down. A great bird sailed through the blue expanse, wings outstretched, its shadow gliding over the earth below. Insects, hidden and tireless, filled the pause with delicate percussion, life’s quiet rhythm.

And then, the voice of my son Ayaan, clear, bright, impossibly sincere, asked a question only a six-year-old could dream up. It cut through the air like a final note, pure and true. Curious, unexpected and perfect.