passing lunchtime

The sun broke through so I went out for my lunch. The trees were in carnival just for me, some leaves fell on my head as confetti on newly weds. I walked uphill spotlit by the sun, warmth on my skin. A squirrel popped out from a smashed up car nearby.
My eyes couldn't help but seek the sky. I looked up and among the finery of autumn were high rises and -fluttering and drifting like dark leaves -  rooks up there in the blue perching on the roofs.
 One dark wing-wide bird captured my attention. It went to land then didn't, instead it shot out its wings and glided and caught the up-draught and arced in easy parabolas against the blue. Again I thought it would land, but again it swooped then took the air for a joy ride. Its arcing flight completed the circle of my smile as I watched. Falling then catching itself, splendid in its element gliding on high. These wee dramas everywhere in the workaday streets.
I had to return to work, so turned back downhill leaving the bird to the slipstreams of the air. A leaf tumbled to the ground before me, waltzing its way to the mosaic its tree was creating on the very lunchtime pavement I was walking. My, my: such truth in falling. A quark comes from high above, behind me. The buses negotiate a corner in their timetable.

There is time enough for coffee.