"Sorry, sorry! I didn't m-" as I jerk my hand away.
Tiny birds call nearby. I open my eyes; they face upwards, my body on its back, propped up against the root of an old White Oak. A sparrow, two chickadees, a titmouse and a smallish woodpecker are toiling in the branches above me. "Dee, dee, dee" one says. "Ratatatatatat" says another. .
To the side, a bicycle with punctured tire leans against the same tree as I.