On a View, a Passage -- by Alex Ranieri

To live above the trees is a very unnatural, a very disconcerting thing. One has the sensation of being a bird condemned to fly forever, night and day, without roosting; and the trees can lend none of their home-like comfort, since they cannot reach the sufferer. They are but scenic dots from the window of an airplane, that man-made, restless bird.

My aspect is more pleasant. On the fifth floor, I live practically in a treehouse. Though such an arrangement has not always been usual for mankind, it gives our apartment an air of childish excitement. The birds seem to regard us as their neighbors, and carry on their business brazenly, without fear of our interference; and the trees, who offer the birds a branch and a leaf in the rain, do not scruple to offer our minds, in their rainy seasons, the same shelter.