After the processor of my mind slowed down enough for me to be able to hear, I was greeted with a symphony of chirps from some nearby place of height. There were no trees around, just their bones in the form of crosses strewn with wire. From there I could hear the song of their colony.
Environments are not often within the realm of our control though the practice of the purposes of our lives is.
Are you singing from a wire or silently dreaming of trees?