To my friend Helyn,

You have been troubled lately by the question of why bodies are necessary. They are, as you have pointed out, often sweaty, hungry, and tired. They also inject chemicals into your brain sometimes that make you sad or angry for no reason. Overall, they are annoying.

The following is my answer to your question.

It is a sunny day, slightly on the side of hot. I am sick of doing homework, so I sling my backpack over my shoulder and step outside. The sun flashes as my eyes adjust, taking in the greens and yellows of the bright day. I take long, easy steps in my new sneakers. My backpack is heavy on my shoulders. I don't know where I'm going; I let my feet lead the way. I follow the path along Riverside Park. Before long, sweat is pouring down the gap between my back and my t-shirt. I lick the salty taste of it from my lips, and walk faster. I strain my legs as I stride up a hill. The weight of the backpack feels good. The air smells of heat and summer.

Before long, I have reached the top of the hill. My legs relax suddenly as the incline ends. I am thirsty and worn out, so I sit on a bench, throwing my backpack down besides me. My shoulders feel dizzy with the sudden lack of weight. I wipe my face with my sleeve, then spread out my legs and arms to let the sweat cool. I take a long sip of water. It feels cold and clean going down my throat. I close my eyes for a moment. The color behind my eyelids is spotted orange-red. I wonder if that is what the sun looks like up close.

When I open them again, my eyes perceive a sudden movement in the grass. My ears detect the rustling of a hundred tiny wings. Birds spring up out of the sun-dappled grass, perform a ballet-like swirl in the air, and come to rest in a tree in front of me. Two minutes later, they do it again, and again, rising gracefully as one from the tree to land in the grass or another tree nearby.

I hold perfectly still. My heart is still thumping from the walk up. I can feel the throb of it in my head. I hear a church bell ring mournfully in the distance - once - twice - and I feel my heart stirring. I am not thinking of anything. My body is all that I am now as I watch the little birds rise again. I am silent enough that they are not afraid of me, and this time they swoop straight at me. Adrenaline courses through my veins and I duck, instinctively, and bring my arms over my head. I look up in time to see their white underbellies flash past as they land in the grass behind me. I see that they are beautiful.

I don't think I can explain it any better than that.

Sincerely,

Baila